The home winds blow unseasonably temperate air through the farmstead, and I slip one more barefoot day into the month of November. With the darkness and cold of northern winters lingering on the horizon, I take every chance I get to savor the sensations of summer. When I lived in Alaska, it was basically a sin to be inside on such a gift of a day, for we knew we’d soon have to lock ourselves away from the boreal elements. It’s like begrudgingly saying goodbye to a loved one, holding them close because you don’t want to miss a single moment of their sweetness.  






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