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I have a weakness for greenhouses.

Since I was a little girl, I've suffered with pretty severe seasonal depression, and when I was wee, I spent a lot of time with my paternal grandparents who had not only green thumbs, but green fingers and toes, as well. My grandmother would take me to greenhouses in the bleakest and coldest of Colorado winters when the entire state shrivels up with the dryness and goes entirely beige.

 

When it's snowing outside, and you are standing in a humid, warm, green haven--surrounded by blooms and drunk on the smell of rich soil and the tangy sharpness of new plant life, it's easy to feel a bit like a plant yourself.

 

I turn my face to the sun and stretch.

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Uploaded on June 18, 2006
Taken on June 18, 2006