Lightning, your presence from ground to sky, no one knows what becomes of me, when you take me so quickly. – Rumi

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Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart. She withers the plant down to the root that she may grow it up again fairer and stronger. She calls her family together within her inmost home to prepare them for being scattered abroad upon the face of the earth. – Hugh Macmillan, “Rejuvenescence,” The Ministry of Nature, 1871
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