
Nicole Lupton
- Mar 28, 2018
Soaring High Over The Moor
“The little black bird was singing, as a gentle wind ruffled his feathers, he shook his little black wings after he sung his beautiful song, then took flight into the open sky, the blue sky swallowed him whole, we look up and see he’s gone, nothing stays for long.” A. Bentley There can’t be a person in the world that hasn’t imaged themselves as a bird gliding high in the sky, as the wind blows over them as they survey the patchwork of the countryside below. With modern advanc