The occasional ramblings of a wandering photographer
In a Monday morning there is a song I’d like to sing:There is a tree that doesn’t fall under the weight of time.There is a mystery which navigates in a sea of wind.There is a voice telling a story of a strange crime.:)
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Monday morning was cold but magnificent. The wandering photographer went upon high.
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In a Monday morning there is a song I’d like to sing:
There is a tree that doesn’t fall under the weight of time.
There is a mystery which navigates in a sea of wind.
There is a voice telling a story of a strange crime.
:)
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