I seen a sun, I seen it go down, to ain't never seen no sundown

The air is clear the redwoods tall …There's not a cloud , to mar it at all. - Keats in the Redeoods

Hey, same to you! What trips you have planned for this glorious summer?

That’s a shouldn’t done

Of you and my other visions.

Sent from my Apple Watch

This of

Another Reply as you are party. Just send to me if you're safe and happy and know me and see this and tell me same

Thanks very much for the birthday wishes, it was grand, and love and blessings to each one and all!

How we are now.

Yep

Em, this is the photo I think of when considering paying a mint for the top of the line phones - this was taken on your SE, am I right?

Emily, you are my very best correspondent, you and sometimes the Sprouts. Of course, at this time, you are the only respondents.

👋🏼

You must Alert five of your client associates to the following alarm: Something is clear that Action must be taken! Go on

Who's here to ⛺️ help me test my two-way wrist TV? Last call.

Was this a movie? Help me out here, someone. Parents of the groom set out on a 13K trip to an elaborate destination wedding starring their son as groom. They hit their marks and paid their fare through a week on foreign soil with three formal ceremonies and more beside, and the end result was, none of this ever happened, because they were excluded from all the grand gallery of photos, including the official portraits and even the Facebook and photographers' weblogs. So in essence they were never there, in fact, so all of this is just more ramblings of an old man in a dry season ...

The ruffles, Will!

This is a wedding party, in its entirety - minus one bridesmaid. She had to take the picture. This established the practice of screening the parents of the couple from the photo. It became such a settled regimen that sometimes they were ghosted even if they were there, so they were retroactively disinvited.

That's a great picture, Dad. Thanks for sharing!

The most crowded assembly of our youth was the State Fair of Texas, the Dallas Fair. My Daddy walking down the Midway one of those Octobers, mumbling "All these people, and I don't know half of them ..."

Who are all these people?

Our Front Gate

A moment to pause and think of nothing but the sun blessing the brush and the fence we built ourselves to keep out the Monkey Demons.

They came up out of the dead woods with no notion of where to go next. I'm your huckleberry, shouted. I'm never knowing what that means, said another. They loped their ponies along the roadway. Maybe we'll come upon something which presents a choice, one decided. We can't just keep on down this road. The audience will switch channels. Was that a shot? No. Why not? A sound doesn't have to explain it self to you. It can't just remain silent and still be a sound. The silent one spurred j his Mount forward. Where's he going? Maybe he heard something. You mean, like a sound? That there one spurred his Mount and was gone. Three lonesome riders , strewn along a road. They never found one another, and nobody ever saw any them evermore. But what was that sound?

It is a matter of some confusion to scientists how an ancient lighthouse will in times of disuse begin to resemble a 1950s milk bottle.

This is another test of the Emergency Bowden Briadcast Network (KFYN) in which my involuntary subscribers aren't expected to respond which will mean they will be removed from the rolls of KFYN which will delight them immeasurably. You have one entire day (24 hrs from 12:30 PST) after which you will have forever not to respond to spectral solicitations. Go back and read this paragraph again.

Firers, watch your lanes!