Feb 2010
Spring broke winters back at long last. Air smelled like spring water, fresh from the ground, as though you could drink it. So you did, through your nostrils. Fog. Trees. Birds, en masse, hundreds of them, return circling, cawing, a tornado cloud of flapping wings. It would freeze again mid-week, but it had begun, the long thaw. Fieldwork was going increasingly well. Winter was dying, slow bleeding across the gray fields lost in haze.
The puddles at the bus stop bear testament.
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