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Message: The Truest Measure The truest measure of spring is not the chorus of green peepers calling beyond the fold of the river, nor geese lamenting northward, nor the sound of their wings: these are memories only. But last night, after a rain, I stood on the step and listened to earthworms drawing leaves into the soil beneath the lawn. This sound is the slow repair of the season, the truest measure of spring. [Migrating geese image by charlietyack and used under the aegis of a Creative Commons license.] www.readingtoronto.com
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