A confused stile, and a disturbed method, is fittest to discourse of our miserie.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Friday Nudibranch Blogging
Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun, And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run; Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Hypselodoris infucata there.
Ooooh!!
ReplyDeletea blue one!! nice
Phila --
ReplyDeleteWhen you get a chance, e-mail me. We need to talk about something.
I've become addicted to these little critters. It's astounding how various they are.
ReplyDelete