The day has ended like the year, dark shadows and dead branches silhouetted against a setting sun.
Tomorrow, cows will graze lazily on Floras Creek, showing or hiding the political campaign sign, our own destiny written on a wide field.
We have things to look forward to.
And things to forget.
Will make a new list.
And bet the sun will come up again from the East.
Happy New Day! Happy New Year!
