We All Move On The Fringes Of Eternity And Are Sometimes Granted Vistas Through Fabric Of Illusion. Many Refuse To Admit It: I Feel A Mystery Exists. There Are Certain Times, When, As On The Whisper Of The Wind, There Comes A Clear And Quiet Realization That There Is Indeed A Presence In The World, A Nonhuman Entity That Is Not Necessarily Inhuman.
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We All Move On The Fringes Of
Ansel Adams
We All Move On The Fringes Of Eternity And Are Sometimes Granted Vistas Through Fabric Of Illusion. Many Refuse To Admit It: I Feel A Mystery Exists. There Are Certain Times, When, As On The Whisper Of The Wind, There Comes A Clear And Quiet Realization That There Is Indeed A Presence In The World, A Nonhuman Entity That Is Not Necessarily Inhuman.
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