Slipping Through My Hands
By 
Mother Nature wastes no time changing, her work never seizing. Each morning a freshly painted canvas awaits us when we step outside our door. The flaming reds, glowing yellows, and rusty brown
Mother Nature wastes no time changing, her work never seizing. Each morning a freshly painted canvas awaits us when we step outside our door. The flaming reds, glowing yellows, and rusty brown
