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Kathy Bradley - Fields of gold

Kathy Bradley - Fields of gold

Kathy Bradley - Fields of gold

Kathy Bradley


    Leaving Darien, up and over the bridge that minds the shrimp boats, I ease my foot off the accelerator and let gravity pull me down toward sea level. The marsh spreads out on either side, at once embracing the river and wooing the ocean. What had been — not many weeks earlier — a rolling lawn, an endless swath of greenest green, has gone gold. Wispy grain heads waving in the winter wind, it is now a field unto harvest.


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