Late Gold
We’ve been out for a stroll around the village today. I took a grand total of 58 shots, of which just four turned out as I’d hoped. Ah well, guess I can’t win them all. 
This was probably the best of the bunch.
Here’s a little Spam Poetry from my inbox to go with it:
- Weep not, my darling,.
- The Modern Man I sing..
- Of the apple her stepmother.
- Of late, eternal condor years.
- They shall not long possess the sky
- shall devour the stars only in apparition