Sometimes, I see a vision that reminds me of photos I've seen of England or Ireland, maybe even Scotland. This is one...
Fog in the valley. Within 15 minutes of taking the photo, it had burned off in the morning sun, despite the cold.
I've watched all the leaves fall off this tree, day by day.
A jet leaves a contrail.
Flint, walking along, as happy as can be. Each day he wants to walk more. I let him, as much as possible, keeping an eye out for when he gets tired.
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