A Story:
I live in a big house at the bottom of a big hill, with a window that looks out onto a driveway and parking lot at the bottom of said big hill, in a valley, near a river, in a Mountain(ous) State. Well, at least the ones they haven't blown up yet.
This makes for very interesting wind and weather. When snowflakes flutter and swirl and float around, it's so beautiful, sometimes nearly hypnotic. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) video and photographs really don't capture it or do it justice. So I usually just look out my window every few minutes and take it in for a while. It's truly lovely.
And then a someone with a "Friends of Coal" license plate shows up and parks like an asshole and roars their tricked out Mustang's engine.
But then they go away, and the snowflakes remain.
The End.
I live in a big house at the bottom of a big hill, with a window that looks out onto a driveway and parking lot at the bottom of said big hill, in a valley, near a river, in a Mountain(ous) State. Well, at least the ones they haven't blown up yet.
This makes for very interesting wind and weather. When snowflakes flutter and swirl and float around, it's so beautiful, sometimes nearly hypnotic. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) video and photographs really don't capture it or do it justice. So I usually just look out my window every few minutes and take it in for a while. It's truly lovely.
And then a someone with a "Friends of Coal" license plate shows up and parks like an asshole and roars their tricked out Mustang's engine.
But then they go away, and the snowflakes remain.
The End.
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