January 1, 2022 I feel a pang of guilt every time I go out to the back yard. There’s always something ugly about it, something ragged, overgrown, in need of tidying. There’s almost always something growing too; the rate at which growing things outpace my available time is part of the problem. There’s always more work to be done than I can do. I will always leave some part of the garden...
Not like January, but like snow
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