The Statehouse

Previous Post: Wandering the Hillsides, Watching for Smoke

Although I know it is closed, I want to stop when we pass by the statehouse on our way out of town.

I have fond memories of this art-filled building, but the time is late, the doors are locked, and the weather has changed. A frigid wind howls around us, making it too miserable even for me to linger over the beautifully landscaped yard. (Even with the otherwise irresistible quince in bloom.)


Next Post: Heading South

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