To Walk Upon The Soft Earth

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I find it something of a miracle to walk outside after a winter rain and feel the leaf-strewn earth give, without sound, under my feet.

There is a sensousness to that which is indescribable and cannot be understood except by those who live in a hostile, sun-flayed land.

 

 

 

The wet air, clinging to my skin. The heavy silence. The gleam of silver dew. The smell of wet soil. Oh, what bliss! What heaven! What surpassing joy!

 

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