Spring mornings and they always smell like smoke. Fog and cold, wet dew. Frost on the grass. I remember writing about winter coming, having to shut my doors. And now the winter is burning off, hence the smoke, hence the skin-colored sky taking one giant stretch above me. I’ll follow its lead. It leads to warmth and summer.
Pat and I made our first camping reservation for April 8th. The night will still be cold, maybe it will rain. It’s the first weekend for camping and we are first, got our favorite spot and all I hope for is sun, smoke and green buds.
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