Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Today is turning out to be a beautiful one; there is not a cloud in the sky and the colors of the world seem bright as can be. Darling dog is running back and forth between the window and the sliding glass door here in the living room, whining about passers by and falling leaves.
"The rocks wore vines of crimson, and goldenrod was full of bees and yellow butterflies. Gnarled roots bore little creeping tufts of squawberry with bright, red berries dotting thick between. But Courtland passed on and saw it not."
~ The Witness by Grace Livingston Hill