The sun had just come over the top of the mountain as I reached the higher field lighting up the tree that stood against the mountain. By the time I reached the tree, my old sneakers were soaked from the wet grass. I couldn't believe my luck, to see the light in the tree.
2 comments:
I've heard absinthe and/or insanity blamed for van Gogh's whirly skies. Maybe his sneakers were wet.
Sam, Wet sneakers go right up the spinal column.
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