That’s A Panther. A Tree Trunk. No, It’s An Anaconda! | Flash Post 369
What’s this? What’s an anaconda?
What’s this? What’s an anaconda?
Button, when my brother-in-law WhatsApp-ed a quote by Ernest Hemingway to me this morning, I found those two lines simple yet extremely powerful.
Button, why can’t these humans understand that we can also sit at a window and watch the rain fall?
Button, this is the third episode that happened consecutively this week after I walked out into the garden.
Button, a very favourite song of mine is Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head.
Button, early this morning, as I stepped into the garden, a fascinating scene unfolded before my eyes.
What do you mean?
Why are we writing on a morose subject like the art of dying?
Haven’t you called one of your earlier posts by the same title? If I remember right, that was a post about our four-legged babies looking gorgeous with flower braids in their hair and that elf-like flower you spotted and clicked.