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Walking thru the gate into the fields this December afternoon into a soft and misty world. Above me, a pigeon takes flight. Then five, then fifty. The trill of their frantic wing beats cut thru the softness. Then, the copse

Do you ever do this? Do you ever have to face a trying situation and look forward to a day ahead when you know that situation will be over? I’ve been doing that for three months now. Autumn’s been rather

That’s what my father used to say just as he pulled the jib to catch the wind from the other side and the mainsail would swing wildly across Polly G – sometimes with unexpected results. That’s what I’m doing today.