And to the calm wintry eventide, tucked safe and sound beneath woollen cloud, comes the softest of blue horizons to meet the pastel land.
At each setting of the sun, when the story-making of the day was done, the horizon was a bonny hug upon our motherland.
The horizon of golden light and bonny black silhouette, is my kind of earthen paradise.
As chattering autumn leaves of gold and scarlet buoyant mood, comes a walking group to our near horizon.
"Um, so, does the word 'horizon' come subconsciously from 'whore eyes on,' as if the idea of travel to the horizon came from a sense of greed and plunder? As in 'whoring for gold?'" asked Ian. "If we change it around it says, 'I on whore,' or 'eye on whore,' as in a desire for rape? Because language and words have to be constructed somehow and I'm an engineer, a coder and an architect. These blue-prints are wild."