Day 54: It would be late afternoon before the sun touched the backdrop of evergreens, but one thin ray slipped between their tops, catching one of the higher branches of the contorted filbert the birds love so well. My little feathered friends were mostly still abed on this frosty morning and had not yet broken the spiders' fragile handiwork. It led seemingly to nowhere, that rimed filament, its nether end severed by a shadow where it rose to attach to another tip. Without pausing long enough to melt the crystals, the light moved on.
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