March the Second, Two Thousand Nine

 

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March the Second, Two Thousand Nine, Seven o’clock in the evening.  Our house, the side yard, last of the firewood.  Sunset, the purple and orange to the west, over the ridge of trees on the other side of the river.  Snow on the ground, cold, windy.  Three days later there was sun and seventy-five degrees and shorts on my chldren.  Springtime in North Carolina.

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