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“Beneath the moon, chilly winds blow through the pines as wisps of clouds arise. So many mountain ridges layer into each other for miles around! The valley stream is quiet and clear -- I'm not done with this boundless joy.” — Peter Levitt
Beneath the moon, chilly winds blow through the pines
as wisps of clouds arise.
So many mountain ridges layer into each other
for miles around!
The valley stream is quiet and clear --
I'm not done with this boundless joy.