I love people screaming at the top of their lungs

“Why don’t you walk on down to Spirit Lake? You can walk over there on top of that snow.” Harry pointed out a field through the kitchen window that was buried about four feet deep in snow. “I will… oh sure… probably never to be seen again.” I smiled meekly at him. Harry grunted then [...]

At land’s end, let the recreational howling begin Grey skies, soft trees – lay me down in lichen please Night riders jitterbug around blue shadows