"But, oh, how precious those things were! To look at the sky, breathe the cold wind, have fingers nipped by chill and skin stung red and heart stirred ...
Were the seeds of next things always there, in the circle of the year, and was that how the world worked its miracles?
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
Were the seeds of next things always there, in the circle of the year, and was that how the world wo...
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