Night was coming on fast by the time I reached the mountain crest. The gentle winds carried the scent of decay and the swaying vegetation, what little there was, was stunted and dry. The old faun was near the mouth of a cave, resting in the growing shadows. I tipped my hat. "Nice place."
Thursday, October 1, 2020
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Autumn Winds
They walked together in the twilight, arm in arm, down the boulevard and onto the bridge. She had never felt so happy. She glanced up at him...
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Back in 2015, Sarah self-published Sylvan Dreaming , a book of her poetry. She asked me to illustrate it, and how could anyone say no to s...
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There's not a thing to this: no bad pun, no story, no moral -- nothing. It's merely a fun little drawing done only for the amusement...
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" And He took them in His arms and blessed them, laying His hands upon them."