52. A truck, piled high with rectangular bales of hay, that turned sharply onto a main street. The hay bales shifted but did not fall. The driver, a white-haired man, saluted as he drove past me.
51. Scores of geese crossing the road -- single file -- at a time I was not in a hurry.
50. Being told I was right by my daughter.
Showing posts with label geese crossing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label geese crossing. Show all posts
Monday, August 17, 2009
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