Cold. A little snow. The cottontail is out between flurries, nibbling on the pale grass. She looks up when I turn the car down the drive, with an expression that can only be described as woeful. Someone on Facebook, of course, will be summiting a mountain; a friend will post a picture with people you …
Red Cedar Wright
A natural history in 365 days. More or less. And non-consecutive. Irregular at best.
