it's been long enough that it's all been a tangled mangled mess of paperpushing, stat zapping, and left of center on true reading of where we're at.
Next
Said to be the sundial of savages, the shadows where one can read the absence of the thing represented. Only during daylight of course.
By Mother's Day the land was really finding its voice. Leafed trees and the songs of creatures awakening from winter.
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