A swarm of plump and colorful waxwings are feasting on rowanberries. Suddenly, a shot rings out. Suddenly, a shot rings out. “A good dozen of the birds tumble from the fruit clusters down into the snow amidst fallen berries and drops of blood.
The past is never dead. It's not even past
A swarm of plump and colorful waxwings are feasting on rowanberries. Suddenly, a shot rings out. Suddenly, a shot rings out. “A good dozen of the birds tumble from the fruit clusters down into the snow amidst fallen berries and drops of blood.