And so it is. Sunrise one minute later than yesterday. And it continues each day...

 
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And so it is. Sunrise one minute later than yesterday. And it continues each day. Do the math over a week. A month. And even though the sun is way over there closer to north than seems possible, I turn and look south east and place a marker in my memory of it's location in December. Every taste of summer includes this breath of winter. Every breath of winter holds this taste of roses on a summer breeze.