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and from the other end of the bird
Flute concert in a park last night.
dusk.
eating cheese and a flat, little "saturn" peach.
(near ideal conditions for finishing Thomas the Rhymer.)
Between every piece, the birdsong became more dense. By the end of the concert, many birds were shouting over each other in an attempt to communicate with the flutes. They hadn't given up on the loud but now silent flute-bird as I drove off, with car windows open to hear the twilight.
dusk.
eating cheese and a flat, little "saturn" peach.
(near ideal conditions for finishing Thomas the Rhymer.)
Between every piece, the birdsong became more dense. By the end of the concert, many birds were shouting over each other in an attempt to communicate with the flutes. They hadn't given up on the loud but now silent flute-bird as I drove off, with car windows open to hear the twilight.