Driving to a country bakery (as I often do), sun shining warm, bright, and beautiful upon newly green fields and roadside grasses, the air smelling of earthworms and freshly cut wood, I was suddenly struck by a familiar longing for her presence beside me in the car. This time it was of such force and quality I was brought to the verge of tears.
In the spring new life blooms and winged lovers tumble to earth, wrapped in feathered embraces. Emerald green shoots force themselves up through mucky roadside marshes, somehow spotlessly reaching for golden light. Clouds tower to unfathomable heights, impossible complexities of shadow and luminance, shaming kingdoms and gods in their majesty.
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