Farewell of a childhood


Over there, in the land of the old Sheppard which goes by the name of Beauce; a place that speaks of the flatness of the hand of God more than in any other places and where the long desired gold wheat blessed by its makers grows proud year after year; I once saw beneath the moon, the dance of the windmills winking at me, whilst saying my last farewell to the fields that shall have stamped forever more my childhood…

Credit: pic by Eleva

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s