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Tuesday, March 1, 2005


   this is just a little story thing so people get an idea of the blue mountains were i live.
As the sun rised on a winters morn the soft cold wind blew through the black silouet of the mountains, a soft orange glow started to beam through the valleys as the birds sung of morning rain, drops slowly fell from the sky echoing through the cliffs as they shattered upon the ground's surface.
As the wind blew the trees, they swayed side to side as if bowing to the mountains, a unique sight of beauty covered this land.
a soft, chilled wind, through mountains with valleys of life, a cold drizzle with the morning sun & the birds singing an enchanting melody this is a winters morn where i come from.

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