"Pan Playing", The Appleby, Augusta, GA, 2010
At each end of the lovely little wall there were two brick pillars. They stood there, perfectly poised, exactly the right height, exactly the right width....They had obviously been built to hold something---carved pineapples, or stone balls, or...or...or Urns.
It was when the word
Urns
came into my head that the garden was
born.
Urns
came into my head that the garden was
born.
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