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  1. Pages Navigation
  2. Musings on Life
  3. . . . . . . there is no edge to openness
  4. Time Tattered Musings: "Reflections through the Looking Glass of Pain & Wisdom"

The roof collapsed in the center first, where there was the least support. A close-up shows how the shingles have disintegrated. The hobbit-like door probably caused a few knocks to heads over the years.

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Mice and other animals don't mind though. My favourite part of the shed is the window on the windward side. The glass is long gone, now just a gaping mouth with fang-like splinters of wood hanging from the top. The vines, like strings of hair, fall around it. What do you think it utters in the long hours it spends alone in the elements?

Musings on Life

It's a fine old ruin. Perhaps it dreams of times gone by when life and laughter abounded.

So you think it might be the vines holding it up then Marie! This photogenic old shack has a strong will to hang on as long as it can..

. . . . . . there is no edge to openness

Hi Marie, Oh I love your photos. This place would make a good location for a mystery book! I wish you a lovely Monday. Love these old places. Traveling north out of our rural area, there used to be a barn next to the highway. For decades after winter it tilted a little more east until one day it was gone. We stopped and got out to looked and it had slid down a little slope and lay flat with its door facing the sky.

Lost Nights - Tattered Time

I miss it every time I drive by there. Last summer European summer not Gasy I spent a couple of weeks in one of the most difficult rural areas anywhere in the world that I have worked in, and it was not very far from the bustling town of Moramanga. On corruption in Madagascar What proportion of individual income goes into bribes in Madagascar?

But let me recall an incident that made me think about it in the first place. And because their senses were so acute, they were able to intuit this plea for a better world that pulsed through the ether that night.

This was a noble challenge that could not be denied. So, the raccoon clan got together and devised a clever plan. It was 11p.

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Wherever dreary violence crept out from behind the shadows, it was bombarded by the weight of a trillion roses. Guns melted into honey that was lapped up by lemurs and honey possums. The insecurity of supremacy was squelched by the consistent sound of John Lennon's " Imagine.

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Enslaved moon bears were released from the ghastly bile farms when the zombie-like workers were inexplicably bathed in gallons of serotonin. Prejudice disappeared as everyone turned green. Cruelty, with its insidious emptiness was filled to the brim with compassion.

Time Tattered Musings: "Reflections through the Looking Glass of Pain & Wisdom"

Wanton destruction of natural habitats for palm or crude oil vanished because citizens dared to care. The ignorance of hatred was drowned out by the howls of wolves and coyotes. Intimidation no longer existed as the power hungry were overrun by puppies. Thoughts of disrespect for Mother Earth turned into butterflies that colored the skies, and finally, the tangled knots of fear were forever, gently relaxed, by the deep calm of George Harrison's eyes. When the morning of January 1st unfurled Anita awoke from her dreams. She hesitantly walked towards the computer for the news she longed to hear.