A gentle breeze released tiny privet flowers from the dense tree crown above, and swirled them into micro-drifts against barriers big and small. I couldn't figure out what caused the rusty brown lines among them. They seem too thin to be wheel imprints. Perhaps the ghost of Jackson Pollock floated by.
Indulging in some Photoshop play:
2 comments:
We don't need Pollock when we've got you.
Photoshop is just too much fun sometimes. ;^) Thanks P.
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