Dear Birch

“Stop everything! It’s snowing”, squeaked the birch to the vast, naked oak as icy flakes fluttered slowly – down, down, down, to the lightly dusted ground.  Snow had been long overdue. Tiny tips of green had already begun to sprout from the very ends of the birch’s branches as winter drew to a pass. The oak gently shuddered and … Continue reading Dear Birch

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