tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578764475698868093.post4420887050723370082..comments2023-10-08T03:32:33.151-04:00Comments on bookeywookey: Tree of the dayTedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05511240514127283024noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578764475698868093.post-42605386784375967942007-10-12T15:17:00.000-04:002007-10-12T15:17:00.000-04:00Oh wow. That's amazing!Oh wow. That's amazing!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578764475698868093.post-29715208809925697702007-10-11T22:11:00.000-04:002007-10-11T22:11:00.000-04:00Isn't that tree like a person? I expect it to pull...Isn't that tree like a person? I expect it to pull up it's roots and stalk across that moor.Tedhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05511240514127283024noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578764475698868093.post-27126678176060389522007-10-11T20:38:00.000-04:002007-10-11T20:38:00.000-04:00I love the stark bleakness of that photo. Maybe I...I love the stark bleakness of that photo. Maybe I'm insane - but landscapes like that light me up inside. I love the grey, the wind, the desolation. Emily Bronte apparently felt the same way and suffered like a caged bird when she was away from her native landscape.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com