Sometimes, I name my summers. The summer of 2008 was The Summer of My Western Bluebird. I surprised myself at the joy I felt with every sapphire swoop into the birdhouse and out again.
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Musings
Sometimes, I name my summers. The summer of 2008 was The Summer of My Western Bluebird. I surprised myself at the joy I felt with every sapphire swoop into the birdhouse and out again.
Read More