"Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people's legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world."

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All life requires a rhythm of rest. . . There is a rhythm in the way day dissolves into night, and night into morning. There is a rhythm as the active growth of spring and summer is quieted by the necessary dormancy of fall and winter. There is a tidal rhythm, a deep, eternal conversation between the land and the great sea.

— Wayne Muller