Distant Spring

A loggerhead shrike stared at me from his perch on a Live Oak tree on that day many months ago. A late afternoon light was slanting across the grass, throwing golden spikes of light over the green grass and turning the tops of distant trees afire with an early evening glow. A cloudless blue sky told the story of the day that was and of warm breezes and yellow wildflowers basking in the sun.

I remember warm springtime breezes. I remember blue cloudless skies. I remember the golden light of the setting sun.

And it sure seems mighty cold outside.

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