Last night we endure another night of near freezing temperatures. The Llano Estacado Trail Sweeper continues to assert its dusty, ravaging gales on towns and prairie environs. Wild fires continue to wreak havoc. The prairie takes one step back for every two steps forward on its march towards spring. The land, flora, fauna and people of the Llano thirst for rain. O Spring, where art thou?
My morning outing with Cooper includes a cozy 45°F air mass, which the 25-30 mph winds chill to subfreezing numbers. Except for the sound of the wind dancing roughly across the dry vegetation the prairie is silent. The erstwhile resurrection of flora and fauna stops. The prairie battens down the hatches. O Spring, where art thou?
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