![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTxrQ5-LL-KB4PWeFVF0mAF1wRd6XVj3AsLAxmIkPeJkKI0FBzEDU7y8muoDyfA_e5zLyJ3L4AM9bnBUrkBtKfyCXL8D2BvYr-CV-B6_Bui2FCjB7tHtOG3nYekn838RQYvHtog/s320/crescent+moon+web.jpg)
I took a frigid walk this morning, up the icy hill of Granite Street beneath a slice of a silver moon. It was probably foolish of me to climb a street that seemed sheer ice, but I somehow survived, plotting a course carefully up and down the hill three times. The wind was a squally one that pushed me up the hill and then drove against me coming down. There seemed to be hardly any cars out and about, just a few lamps in windows, and only a couple of strings of holidays lights lit up in the darkness. The silver piece of moon was the brightest and cheeriest sight I saw.
No comments:
Post a Comment