October 25th, 2009Today features a guest contributor.
I walked through the garden as a child does in a storybook. The kind of story that involves fantastical, twisty trees that shelter from the cold, crisp, autumn air. And scattered leaves that catch fire from drops of light that fall carelessly from the sky. Had the garden allowed, I would have sat myself under this tree, opened the pages of a similar story, and read it through the morning; But alas, it was forbidden. So I take with me this picture of my storybook canopy and remember the imagination of my childhood'
Bailee Bruun
A Watchful Wanderer
awatchfulwanderer.blogspot.com
awatchfulwanderer@gmail.com
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