Pines stand about like sentinels guarding the thin presence of winter life, reminding me of photosynthetic green that has already begun to emmerge in our garden two weeks ago in the form of tulip pokes. A month from now the mass of wild plant life will have begun to break forward, but for the time being, Round Valley Reservoir feels in part abandoned, a cold vacuum that hasn't yielded me a trout since January 3rd. Nevertheless, to crunch stone gravel underfoot with sunlit breeze on my cheeks creates a presence personal and enlivening that doesn't feel put out at all. A few vehicles came into the lot and they were the loneliest aspect, people sitting back in their seats and doing nothing.
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