"and you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-before
dawn minutely dew-grazed stir of the black, dab-filled sea...."
Dylan
Thomas, Under Milk Wood
Welcome
to my small slice.
A slice of myself, as mirrored in slivers of small things.
A trove of personal treasures - and pleasures, I suppose, although I have toiled and snarled my way through not a few of them.
Please:
tarry - read - stroll about these few
rooms of mine.