-- It was dreary and wearisome. Cold clammy winter still held way in this forsaken country. The only green was the scum of livid weed on the dark greasy surfaces of the sullen waters. Dead grasses and rotting reeds loomed up in the mists like ragged shadows of long-forgotten summers. --"The Passage of the Marshes" http://www.ccil.org/~cowanReceived on Thu Jan 04 2007 - 08:16:29 PST
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.3.0 : Sat Sep 04 2010 - 09:44:55 PDT