We went on, cutting through the branches, and it was as if we were swimming through a sea of leaves, with the bushes as waves rising and falling and rising around us, and flinging their green sprays high to the treetops.
We went on, cutting through the branches, and it was as if we were swimming through a sea of leaves, with the bushes as waves rising and falling and rising around us, and flinging their green sprays high to the treetops.
The winter wind is like a cold surf beating through the bare treetops and sweeping through the valleys. It roars in the night, an elemental voice it whistles at the house and TD corner and it rattles the shutter and the pane.
Jacaranda blue crowns treetops in roadside show Springtime anew.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories