Wed Aug 31, 2016 11:23 am
Subtle. while I was traveling up north, I stopped at the house where I grew up. Nothing looks the same. When I walked the path into the woods behind the house, I found this birdhouse my Dad made, about 40 years ago.

All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the frost ~ J. R. R. Tolkien