Minnesota is in the midst of a deluge of storms. Our pond is flooding the bike paths and walking trails.
Willow is dancing; her long hair is almost horizontal as she sways. The dissonance of the thundersong whips the cattails and reeds into joining the chaotic frenzy. All the trees are exhausted, even the ground is tired, but the wind continues. Dance, he bellows! DANCE! You must keep dancing! MUST KEEP DANCING
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