At the bottom of the valley across the field from my woods runs a creek. I imagined that I took an hour every day to roll a love note scroll-like and gently slide it into one of the glass bottles waiting on the rack on the wall.
Some days I might send a story. Some days maybe a photo or secret might go. I would carefully seal it, and wrapping it in wishes for good fortune, carry it to the stream and let it go where ever it was destined to go.
I liked that picture.
I often think in images. Seems efficient. Images can capture so much in one flash.
So this is my second love-note. And here you are, reading it.
Perhaps it was meant to be.