The Late Wisconsin Spring
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The Late Wisconsin Spring
"Chained is the Spring. The night-wind bold Blows over the hard earth; Time is not more confused and cold, Nor keeps more wintry mirth. "Yet blow, and roll the world about; Blow, Time—blow, winter's Wind! Through chinks of Time, heaven peepeth out, And Spring the frost behind."
Våren (“Primavera”, de Edvard Grieg)
Green pastures. Watching the horizon rise and fall as the wind swirled through the wheat, an afternoon rippling with curling lines of rain. The color of the earth, the smell of alfalfa and bread. A town that smelled like spilled honey...
The day is one of those eerie Central Peninsula imitations of heaven—seventy degrees and clear, the air thick with bay laurel and eucalyptus.