Monday, August 17, 2015
Friday, August 14, 2015
Dawn
By Larin S. Larson
Curls of mist wind their way through tall birches, wrapping around slender white trunks. A blanket of soft fog lies thickly over dew drenched grasses. Slowly, like a melody the faintest angle blush appears above high frosted hills and the first lark sings, her sweet lilting tune drifting through the valley. Laughing breezes tickle a fawn's nose and he nudges his mother to wake her. Daises and wild sweet peas turn their faces to welcome the warmth of the sun as it shows its golden face, flooding the valley with light.
Curls of mist wind their way through tall birches, wrapping around slender white trunks. A blanket of soft fog lies thickly over dew drenched grasses. Slowly, like a melody the faintest angle blush appears above high frosted hills and the first lark sings, her sweet lilting tune drifting through the valley. Laughing breezes tickle a fawn's nose and he nudges his mother to wake her. Daises and wild sweet peas turn their faces to welcome the warmth of the sun as it shows its golden face, flooding the valley with light.
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