31 August 2007. High clouds pearl gray, even a chill to the air, after heavy end-of-summer days... Valley hills, parched and brown, concentric rings to the east. Copper mines and zinc, chunks of iron, the entire mineral lore--opening onto miles and miles of straight-plowed fields... The Golden State, by some standard, a banner and a name... Gray marshlands at dawn, absent wind, every tiny ripple... A minnow scooting back and forth in cloudy shallows, then another...stands of reed. A heron watching, preparé...
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