On a cold, clear morning, the calls of birds seem almost crystalline. To say nothing of the whistle of a westbound freight…
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On a cold, clear morning, the calls of birds seem almost crystalline. To say nothing of the whistle of a westbound freight…
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Exceptionally beautiful and evocative … even for you, who so consistently delight. :)
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Oh, thank you. It’s an example of the kind of update I write when there isn’t a whole lot going on. When I get desperate for something to say, I go evocative. :)