The day the moon landed

the-day-the-moon-landed

In our field, on Sunday afternoon.

Extraordinary!

What’s it doing there?

Of course, it’s not the moon. It’s a puffball with beautiful markings and the shadow of wildflowers.

Isn’t it strange how we are so quick to make things concrete and use technically correct language?

But that doesn’t transport us in our imagination, does it?

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