The empty field
a Sunday meditation
leaving no trace —
crow shadows crossing
an empty field
Stony earth, chalk and umber. The bones of this great Earth beckon. Winter has long since passed, Spring is well under way, and Summer almost here.
leaving no trace —
crow shadows crossing
an empty field
Stony earth, chalk and umber. The bones of this great Earth beckon. Winter has long since passed, Spring is well under way, and Summer almost here.
