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’I did not want to think about people.

I wanted the trees, the scents and colors,

the shifting shadows of the wood,

which spoke a language I understood.

I wished I could simply disappear in it,

live like a bird or a fox through the winter,

and leave the things I had glimpsed

to resolve themselves without me.‘


- P.A. McKillip, Winter Rose


  • A portrait from the archives of winter '13.


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