visitation of the white stuff. it appears this sort of thing doesn't tally with their
idea of Spring. none of this dilly-dallying with changing seasons for them.
no patient observers of the capricious whims and weanings of mercurial
temperaments, they. if there's to be change, let's have done with it!
and a wee, crystal voice is whispering in my window, could we have stumbled
on a cold snap from that most evasive of seasons, Caucasion Winter?
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