Some kind of immense mischievous god with pockets packed with itty bitty stars walked the earth early this morning before anyone was awake. He left a twinkling miasma all over the garden’s floor. Common people call this frost, but I know they’re fallen stars from the pockets of God.
I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station,
through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in
~George Washington Carver
through which God speaks to us every hour, if we will only tune in
~George Washington Carver
