scrubjayspeaks | Lake Lewisia #1183

He thumbed through the old gardening guide, full of ink sketches and archaic names that made even the most commonplace plants seem suddenly strange and impressive. The book’s climate zones were decades and degrees out of date, and it had a whole chapter dedicated to determining if your well water had ghosts in it, but it was still more promising than anything else. He didn’t know if the tree in front of his new house was haunted, possessed, or just iron deficient, but he was determined to do something about it.

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LL#1183