"And the needles of the pine trees, freshly washed to a deep, rich green, shimmered with droplets that blinked like clear crystals."

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If you don't die of thirst, there are blessings in the desert. You can be pulled into limitlessness, which we all yearn for, or you can do the beauty of minutiae, the scrimshaw of tiny and precise. The sky is your ocean, and the crystal silence will uplift you like great gospel music, or Neil Young.

— Anne Lamott