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In these dark winter days, glimpses of the promise of a brighter spring are solace.

Salvaging a nest from a tree in a storm I felt both guilty, (would the maker return next spring?) and elation at the wondrous talents of such a small creature. Nests always bring me inexplicable joy.

The rusty bedspring was washed ashore – tiny shells and pebbles entwined.

Both nest and bedspring evoke home.

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