As well as being a place to indulge my love of Hipstamatic and iPhone photos, this is a blog of images and words. Of little vignettes and quiet corners from a place in my head, a place I call The Moth House. Of significant, and also small, happenings there, the wanderings and musings and sad reveries of it's occupants, The Parted Lovers.

Thursday


The garden breathes the faint memory of long-ago children.
It is filled with such ghosts and echoes of other lives.
A lingering sensation of hidden joy.



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