I wandered through the wood with ancient oaks surrounded by young beach trees all stunted by the wind as they stayed low in the confines of the small valley. The stream had turned into a small lake for the pleasure of a pair of swans gliding gently with no apparent effort and at the the end of the path in the distance I could see........the oil refinery. I don't think it was supposed to end that way?
[bigtalljohn.co.uk]
Do I care enough, or do I care too much to handle failure.

