10 January 2013
As nature grips the sullen tones of life. He smells the glorious flower of the fresh spring morning and ripe dew covering the thick green grass wetting his shoes and socks in the most satisfying wayward every step. As he stumbles and fumbles his way across this field in his own way he has the hot fresh morning sun lapping his face and warming his hands while he can still see his breath in the crisp morning air. This is a man who is truly free
Morning Glory • Opuss № I