Mist Over Beaver Dams Pond

The early morning mist rose over the pond.

The mist of the past; mist of memories; of those who were here before.

When their canoes drifted silently over the waters; and their voices were raised in song.

Published by adelenagy

Nature lover; music lover; Baha'i; married to a wonderful man from Iran; currently looking after my 90-year-old mother.

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