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The smell of spring

It is spring today. Not because the grass is growing.

Not because the trees are straining to burst into leaf. Not because the pussy willows have come and gone as has the maple syrup.

Not even because the frogs are singing to me at night, my window lifted enough to let the frogs' voices come in and play in my dreams.

Not for any of those signs, though they are lovely accessories to the announcement.

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