Thursday, March 6, 2008

i remember how good it smelled

I'd like to break into the Marjorie McNeely Conservatory with my son, and set up a tent for the night. Look at the stars under the glass greenhouse dome (c. 1915), listen to the birds who live blissfully unaware of the still-frigid and seemingly lifeless landscape just millimeters away. And smell the green things growing.

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