Birds feed on our dreams, and they feed them. They know nothing about it. A bird knows nothing. It is hardly if he(it) recognizes itself in the mirror of the puddles at the bottom of which our dreams wait for him(it), seize him(it) by the beak, and flood him(it).
Pierre
Peuchmaurd
Malo Les Bains a rainy day on the dike in 08/09/17
