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June 28, 2012
Waist deep in the bracken we wade, through the green green sea. How poor was my life before I knew that smell, the smell of bracken, the smell of bracken in the summer. A smell sweet and rich and pure, sweet like spring water, and rich like honey, and pure like mountain air. I fill my lungs with it, I long for it to last. It feels balmy, it feels healthy. If there was a perfume that even came close to it, I would buy out the whole stock, I would bathe in it, I would wake up to it.