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Light, gold light is burning off the fog and delivering a sun-drenched Sunday. And just as I write this, a foghorn groans. That mournful cry that permeates the air and washes across the city until it hits the wall of our mountains.
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I've been living with gray skies and fog for the better part of this summer, and today, I want sun. The weatherman promised sun, and today I'm going to demand it. Not just for me, but for all those kooky succulents in my garden. They're fine, good, so adaptable and acquiescent. They survive in most every kind of weather. But I want to see their edges turn purple and their yellows pop; and that bud that's emerging from inside what appears to be a split rock, I want to see it bloom.
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Yes, I want to see the succulents bake and watch their mysteries unfold. I also want sun for the lizards. I want bright light to illuminate the rock wall so that Huey, who's shedding his skin, can sprawl across his favorite chunk of sandstone and catch the rays.
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(See you next time on October 20th)