Spring looms just ahead in Georgia. My daffodils are blooming, tulips coming soon. Little signs everywhere as I walk in my sun-patched woods to the creek. You wouldn't guess from the ripple of water and loamy ground that we were in a high level drought.
When I go out in the morning to get the paper I feel my skin suck both the warmth of the sun and the crisp air refreshingly deep into my restless soul.
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