Blooms buried

It’s a very rainy morning so time to sit in front of the computer and over process a capture. I have no idea why I was parallel thinking about Virginia Woolf but it did help with figuring out a title – “The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice.” Virginia Woolf, Orlando
powell river,

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