I’ve long been attracted to the fancy that nature produces hieroglyphic writing that only the wise can read. It is surely a harmless notion, a metaphor suggesting that nature can be read in more ways than one. Even better, perhaps, is the idea that nature is a kind of musical notation. In the image above, the notes have already left the staff and made their way into the world.
Burning the Books
Beginning or End?
Grandad Wade
Beauty
Small blessings #4: Just a touch of rose.
Seven
Glory
Morning Cuppa
Alert