It is early evening when I pull up to the greenhouse. There is a certain way the light is when it has been raining for days in late May and then at last the clouds break. They are still there, the clouds, the air is still damp, but this light is soft, soft, and it is on my private list of precious things.… more
Tag Archives: Cannabis
Old School
Fiction by Jane SnyderSunshine in a bag. It’s 4:20 somewhere. Drop by and say high.
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