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Time flies

Time flies. Seasons overlap. Years vanish on the wind, like smoke from an untended fire. A year ago, as summer began, I started to write one last novel. The more things change...

Small world...

A garden needn't be big to be a world. While the Main Muse went about her business just up the road in Hendo, I came across this wee gem within walking distance of downtown. It was a good place to sit with a friend and practice being alive.