Imagine pulling processed cotton bolls apart until they are wispy strings of white fluff.
Use your palette of colors to gently blend in every shade of pink one could conceive.
Feel total stillness, complete silence, and a light mist on the black broccoli shapes of a forest of live oaks.
Gently ease the morning sun from its slumber toward only the whispered hint of dawn.
Such was the sky on the Tin Star Ranch this morn as the ole ranch hand relaxed in the hunting blind.
Ya gotta love it!
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