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glory of the snow


ever onwards. i like to imagine that each january day rolls something like a crashing wave, the tide is coming in and the water is pushing you further, further, into the unfamiliar, fantastic, frightening, foreign, territory of a new year. on a particularly dreary winter’s evening, you might need reminding, to step up your observing, look closely, you’ll see. this is a land of:

  • half-moon teapots.
  • salmonberry jam from kodiak island, or strawberry, from the supermarket.
  • sugar pine scent on your wrists, on the breeze, there are far away and ancient forests to be wandered.
  • catkins that pretend to be caterpillars, caterpillars that pretend to be catkins.
  • seashore scilla amethystina.
  • springtime glory of the snow, bulbs through the post.

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