The glory of basking in the warm sunlight. Serenity from nature. Reaching out. Growing green.
Fading ray by ray, in front of our very eyes.
Much of our silence and most of our voice. Echoing off the canyon walls. Dry, arid lands. Barren. Cracked. Deserted.
The birds. Do they survive the long flights, with no branches in sight to rest a wing on? The depth of the silence, if not for them. Falling feather by feather.
Never let go.
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