While listening to this, I picture some southerners sitting on a broken down porch to a broken down house in the middle of nowhere,surrounded by nothing but trees.
...that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain...
-Ray Bradbury
ABOUT
Halloween, poetry, photography, ambient music, my Halloween creations...and anything else I feel like.
Born with Halloween & horror in the blood. Photographer. Writer. Maker of many things. Connoisseur of horror films, with over 25 years of viewing & education.
~All photos, writings, and artistic works done by yours truly across all my blogs are copyrighted to me. **It must be noted, I am former collaborator and wife of the Halloween artist Pumpkinrot. Collaborator: 2008 thru 2018, Wife: 2008 thru 2020.
1 comment:
Great lyrics.
While listening to this, I picture some southerners sitting on a broken down porch to a broken down house in the middle of nowhere,surrounded by nothing but trees.
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