Day 19

One it is good to see the dearest edith not in tears yearning for absent rain.
Two here is something maybe to tide me (us) over until more times blows.



My brother saw this poem by John Keats written on a wall in London:

Sharing Eve's Apple

He really liked it, so he e-mailed it to me and I really liked it too! It seemed fitting to bring the poems journey full-circle by writing it on a wall in Boulder.

It was a perilous venture, which found the poem, stanza by stanza, scrawled across boulders in a particularly lovely area by a river.



Some Miscellaneous Pictures:





Waiting for a bus in the grip of a deathly cold!