In the still of night
under hush of moon
fantasy takes wing
in the forest
upon an owls whoot
Okay I know I am not a poet but I was envisioning the teenage girls who upon hearing the owls whoot the other night, freaked out and ran from the forested area where the path meanders past the owl nest. This shot was taken moments after the shrieking girls passed.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
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