mit out sound

By audioengineear

Nevermore

"Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'"

A few crows flew into the tree out back so I grabbed the camera and took a couple of snaps.  Other than that it was a busy day of yard work around the old homestead.

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