"But in the end of the month Thern when winter lay heavy on the land, a man came up the mountainside on skis, and gave to the warder at East Gate a bundle wrapped in furs, saying, "This is Therem, the son's son of Estre." Then he was down the mountain on his skis like a rock skipping over water, gone before any thought to hold him."
Ursula Kroeber Le Guin, "The Left Hand of Darkness"
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They say that the cake is a lie...
...But sometimes a cake is just a cake.
Спасибо огромное!
Well done
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#watercolorists
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.....cogwurx.....
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reminds me a bit of the Alps...
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Isn't it wonderful how nature arranges for all the crack pots to find each other?