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Rabbitbrush on the high desert

What Matters More than the Choices We Make

In September, my high desert world turns all golden. It starts down low, as the native grasses go to straw. Then seemingly overnight, yellow tips appear on the rabbitbrush that superabounds in our neck of the woods. And now, twice a day—at seven in the morning and again at 3:30—a school bus grinds to a stop […]

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