Just after a heavy rain the air feels fresh and clean. One walks about watchful of puddles, but so often I am unaware of how all the living flora holds the water. Last Saturday I got a close-up view of worlds in a drop of water.
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Although they all begin in the same floral neighborhood, each drop is headed in a different direction, sort of like the daughter spiders from Charlotte's egg sack (Charlotte's Web, E.B. White)
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