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Hello from Spartanburg IV

Tiny bluebird eggs
Still not sure you can tell how tiny these bluebird eggs are. (I didn't touch them, by the way—that's the angle of the photo.)

Nature here not so much red in tooth & claw as indolent in lunch & dinner. I need a nap, & it's not even 90°. There's not a minute when I'm not amazed to be here, not a tree or vista that isn't satisfying, not a breath I draw that doesn't quiet me. Steve's art is to sponsor unobtrusive beauty. (Not that he laid the bluebird eggs.)

He found a dirt dauber's nest when he hauled down the kayak from an outbuilding just now. He planted a dawn redwood that was thought to be extinct until one was found in a remote Chinese valley in the 1940s. He has viburnum, giant mullen, heirloom climbing roses—4 acres of trees and plants that he maintains and watches over.
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