Posted by: The Malt House | August 20, 2010

Chuckle

Nature sits under a sheet of low cloud; droplets form and grow on every leaf. The daylight dims, the trees retire into a misty veil and an eerie silence descends.  Time passes and gradually the cloud starts to rise, it thins and finally the Sun bursts its bonds. Diamond droplets sparkle with pleasure at the returning light. The brook chuckles and birdsong once more fills the air.


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