Beaming

The sun is beaming, throwing long shadows across the intersection outside of my window.

No amount of rain or grey can kill my spirit. I am an Oregonian. My feet are rooted in soggy soil. My hair is mossy.

But the sun cuts through the clouds with sharp precision, and I've turned my face into the light.

And I'm not complaining.

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This page contains a single entry by Jeremy published on March 5, 1999 12:00 AM.

In like a lion was the previous entry in this blog.

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