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Anxious dark clouds on the horizon pregnant with rain, rolling, turning. Spring storm. The ground itself seems to vibrate. The languid summer air pushed away by galloping, runaway wind. The trees shudder. The hot baked earth cracks open, the dry brown grass demands water. Is action today still possible? The turgid sky seems to answer: yes, but first we must remember how to forget. First, we require a volcanic spring.

A series of posts by werther.