Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Saturday, 12 July 2008
Up the road, afternoon.
The broad leaves of maize rustle and rub against each other in an imperceptible breeze. It gives me a persistent suspicion they are whispering about me as I go by.
1 comment:
I'm sure they are only saying nice things!
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