We stood on the bank of the creek as it rushed along, swollen and fast and brown with yesterday's torrential rains, among the ragged blackberry canes just starting to put out this year's first electric green leaves and the last of the dried cow parsnip flowers, spindly and crumbling. The last time we were there, the bushes were full of blackberries, fat and sweet and warm from the late summer sun, and the cow parsnips nodded in their starry galaxy shapes.
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AuthorBitter Water
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. Archives
June 2019
Categories© Francie Nevill and Every Sweet Thing, 2017.
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