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"I do not go to the beach to hear the crashing of the surf,
to feel the sand beneath my feet instead of turf,
or to breathe in the wholesome fresh air;
I go to the beach simply because it is there."
-Pat Timm September, 2009.

 
 
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She told me the seasons were changing. The sun was shining but it was not hot. I could feel a sense of irritability in the air. Breezy, calm, breezy, no one noticed, and no one cared at least not this day. Perhaps when one thinks about yet another change to endure, the water down the drain, or maybe the days gone by they will fret. It will turn cold; it will rain or maybe snow. Residing indoors hovering near a warm cavern of sorts will be utmost. Watch through your window, it will come, the night will last. She told me the seasons were changing. I told her, yeah I know.

 
    "The moment one gives close attention to any thing, even a blade of grass it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself." - Henry Miller
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    A Little Insight               To My Blog

    Pat's Whispers are a short gathering of words from my imagination for you to ponder. A spattering of this and that, pomp and prose and almost anything else to wonder.

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