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Monday, January 9, 2012
Stark. That is the word I am thinking of as I walk around outside. It is so dry that the oak leaves are still in piles on the ground under the trees. They did not deteriorate at all. It is so dry that you can make dust when things thaw out. Nothing is changing and it feels like the depth of winter is upon us. My live willow chair needs weaving, some pruning, and maybe some staves to fortify the back.