Site Meter
Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away ere break of day
To seek the pale enchanted gold

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells
While hammers fell like ringing bells
In places deep, where dark things sleep,
In hollow halls beneath the fells.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Scenes from a Morning Commute

Red morning, sailors warning. And now, it's snowing to beat the band. Those darn sailors.



No comments: