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every step. The sunny disposition of last summer's
picnics frozen into a long lost memory--never to be
resurrected. Just survive, keep your head down, take
one step at a time, and never stop to look for signs of
a spring thaw.
But we prevailed. By no more than simply not giv-
ing in to the despair of the season, the end did come.
Or I should say the beginning. It would almost seem
to get worse at first--a few mornings when the chill
seemed especially intense, then a fleeting instant of
sunlight on your cheek, a spot of warmth almost over-
looked, but now causing a slight thaw, a veneer of
water on the icy streets, making all transit that much
more treacherous.
And finally, after a week or two of the southern
wind, sunlight and the silent longing of the earth un-
derfoot, winter lost its grip on the land and ascended
to the heights of some northern place, to bide its time
patiently.
Slushy streets, a few brave robins, solar angles not
quite so steep now--you could almost begin to dream
again, plan for planting, playing, swimming, laughter.
Drop the burden and look up.
I found myself thrust rudely back into that win-
ter place last week when I went to the meetup with
the folks from crude-awakening. These people take
peak oil seriously--building rainwater catchments,
Continued on page 14
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