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“Shall we survey the property?” This is a little joke we share, my husband and I. The invitation suggests that we might be endeavouring to review the status of a few acres of farmland. This is not the case. But still, we pull on some rubber boots and head to the backyard, which┬áremains streaked by patches of ice and snow. We walk, with hands clasped behind our backs, hemming and hawing and calling out to each other when a pleasing discovery is made. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgic — The Promise of Spring”