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The woods at twilight in April enjoy a quality of light
that is both warm and pale,
filtering green and golden all the way down
through stories of redwood boughs and tanoak tangle,
finding veins in the bay leaves and illuminating them,
but with subtlety.

That doesn't last long. The light turns
bluer by degrees, deepening the new greens
sweetly. Dogs' paws make little sound,
for the world is still damp, and the streams sigh
and the water is still trickling from everywhere.

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summer_jackel

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