PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL:
In the copper pools of autumn, thoughtaccumulates and falling leaves, whilethe stream itself still surges and cascadesacross old stones and windblasted hills.What is there in us that is not of that crush?
In the copper pools of autumn, thoughtaccumulates and falling leaves, whilethe stream itself still surges and cascadesacross old stones and windblasted hills.What is there in us that is not of that crush?