3rd Day of the Snow Moon

I have lived in this area for 49 winters. I see the landscape come alive in spring and die in autumn. Birds come and go. Frogs warm, call and go quiet. Butterflies starting to flit about during the first good stretch of warm weather, then disappear with the last days of fall.

I wonder what I would do if I could not witness it every year. The life and death of it all. I find a certain beauty in it.

– Casey Harn

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