“At Camp Corbett?” I asked, smiling. (I needed a good sleep. It was good to have it confirmed.) “Yup!” he replied. I giggled. “Now there’s a guy who could tell a story around a campfire.” I added. “Yes. he sure could,” I could feel him nodding his head smiling a...
I can see her now. Campfire burning. Banjo strumming. Eager audience enjoying every word (or leaf!) that she paints. I’d love to be there! When Autumn sets the woods aglow, she paints with sunlight from her soul. Autumn dips her paintbrush in sunlit soul and takes it to the trees...