Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Wednesday Morning in the wood.





 This little wood calls me whenever I am feeling blue.





 The well worn paths tell a tale of  other visitors . 




                      Who come nourish their souls.



                                  

                 Or just for fun.


                                       



  I ponder on the aches and wounds that these woods have healed.




    


Through the sound of running streams. 




And time spent . . . .




In quiet but cheerful company.



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