To any lost soul that wanders in here by accident or out of nostalgia for what once was, hello dear fellow-traveler.
Time is flying. Perhaps it's my aging brain. Perhaps the flood of this world's events and their coverage.
But time does fly.
On the occasion pictured above, time stopped. It's been a dream of mine. To feel the little life vibrations of a chickadee. To feel little bird tremors on my head, to see little bird toes grasping the brim of my hat.
I hope a dream or two of yours has been realized this summer. There's still time, though its pace has accelerated. All the more reason to keep looking up, out and around, for after all . . .
it's a beautiful world.
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