musings on art, walks with the dog, life as it happens
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truth
have just come back from a refreshing evening stroll with the dog in the 'uiterwaarden', the area alongside a river, that at times can become flooded. We chased away a couple of geese and ducks, or rather the dog did, I found this feather and stuck it under sticky-tape, a poem by Bert Schierbeek
A pound of feathers won't fly without a bird in it.
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