"Every springI hear the thrush singingin the glowing woodshe is only passing through.His voice is deep,then he lifts it until it seemsto fall from the ...
Come with me into the woods where spring isadvancing, as it does, no matter what,not being singular or particular, but oneof the forever gifts, and certainly visible.
Photo by Ákos Szabó
Photo by Ian Turnell
Come with me into the woods where spring isadvancing, as it does, no matter what,not being singular ...
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