Wind is the voice and the song of the prairie.
Frost outlines a leaf fallen like a letter from summer.
"Every moment of this strange and lovely life from dawn to dusk is a miracle. Somewhere, always, a rose is opening its petals to the dawn. Somewhere, always, a flower is fading in the dusk." Beverly NicholsLeft Behindby Elece HollisI love to find the spaces where the flowers bloom and grow,Places where once frame houses stood ... abandoned long ago.I love to... Continue Reading →