outwait outrun outwit


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I spotted my first swift of the year, soaring like my spirit on this gloriously sunny day. In the shop, Joe the butcher remarked on how unusually green this winter has been: "Nothing died, and now the primroses are out."

I resisted the urge to post a photo of the blue sky, to add to the other photos of blue skies my Irish friends post on days like this. I was reminded of how my friends in California would post photos of raindrops on their windshields, and of apocalyptic red skies when wildfires burned. Miracles and catastrophes, how many more in near-future years?


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