Only when they’re not supposed to be open. Disappointed in the lack of clarity of this shot through the pickup windshield as Robbin opened the gate to check the cows and calves in our upper country, I still liked the feel of it as we entered another world. Thanks for your comment and visiting.
I barely keep track where I go and often turn the page on what I left. The gates are not always open but it has never stopped me. Weakness or strength: not really sure.
I admire your blog John, I admire this life and what it represents. Thank you.
Quite beautiful!
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Thanks, A, my excuse for near-term memory loss.
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Don’t ranchers really dislike open gates?
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Only when they’re not supposed to be open. Disappointed in the lack of clarity of this shot through the pickup windshield as Robbin opened the gate to check the cows and calves in our upper country, I still liked the feel of it as we entered another world. Thanks for your comment and visiting.
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Beautiful poem and picture. 🙂
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Thanks, Imelda!! It’s what spring used to look like.
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I barely keep track where I go and often turn the page on what I left. The gates are not always open but it has never stopped me. Weakness or strength: not really sure.
I admire your blog John, I admire this life and what it represents. Thank you.
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Likewise. Seeing Australia, and the world, through your eyes is far more enlightening than the alternative of the TV news. Thank you.
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