Even in the grey and rainy gloom of the last day of November, some plants still find their way out of the cold, wet ground and push themselves up in a cheerful, devil-may-care burst of brightness. These are nasty times, but down in depths, right at the bottom, the only thing left in the broken box is hope. A glimmer can become a spark; that spark could become a glow and even a flame. In the right set of circumstances, all sorts of things are possible. Maybe those black broken branches and dark drifts of leaves are a bonfire waiting only to be lit.
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