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The big piles of snow are receding, turning soft and slushy like Italian ices in August. Bits break off, mini icebergs floating on a sea of blacktop. Tiny buds line the branches of the bare trees, waiting, knowing that spring cannot be too far off now.
The pulse of the Earth quickens a tiny bit, responding to the bit of warmth granted after a long, cold slumber. Long rows of cotton clouds drift lazily overhead, waves on a blue sky ocean, ripples sailing to the east.
Like the eye of a storm, a moment's calm between gales, this day is a balm to the icy shores of winter, an interlude of blue between grey and white, a promise of days to come.
More snow will fall, more bitter cold will bite, but before long all will melt, and the Earth will reawaken in the endless circle of the seasons.
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Date: 2009-02-02 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 07:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-03 06:53 am (UTC)