I noticed this little duck in the culvert. Was she guarding her babies, or taking a break from the sun and noise.
Rain, snow, ice, water. A cycle that gives life to this planet.
History of a past that few care about. It just echos in the background of the hustle of daily life. Rushing to experience something new, rather than listening to the past.
The transportation of the wealthy.
There is something to be said about hearing the tall grass blow in the wind. There is no other sound like it.
I notice him right away. His thick brown fur, dancing as he walked through the grass. He had eaten his fruit, his stomach full. I wonder what he was thinking? What experiences did he have?
This river quietly passed through the thicket of brush and trees. Minding itself and sharing its life giving gifts.
The cotton was joyfully dancing against the blue sky. Full and plump.
This board is old and antiquated, a purpose served and forgotten.
Fuses were large to accomodate the voltage. Now they are so small.