It's good I'm this age, with these circumstances, because I fall in love too easily. I fall in love with daylight and evening and Witch Hazel blossoms in winter and snow-flecked young Birches and Sumac and moonless nights and the sound of snow crunching beneath boots and the distant patter of rushing waters from the stream in the ravine at the end of the field and the feel of cold winter air on cheeks as darkness falls and the delight of a pup romping in a storm and the edges of the forest as snow obscures and the bright lights of home far up on the hill while tromping back home.
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