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Cracked earth

Parched land

Sun, Feb 11th, 2018

I've never lived anywhere where it literally doesn't rain for months. I've been here for two and a half months and we've only had one tiny sprinkling of rain. Mostly I don't mind it, particularly after spending the last two winters in Downeast Maine where it rains and sleets and ices and snows pretty much constantly for months at a time. But recently it's been getting to me -- the parched land and the endless blue skies and the dust that slides in through the cracks around the doors. And it makes me think of other ways in which my life feels parched. Sometimes I feel like my dreams are fading and my sense of wonder has been muted. And so I have to return to the source of inspiration and dreams and imagination. I have to find the rain. 

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