“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” This country’s greatness and true genius lies in its diversity.

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This is my backyard — the willows planted in 2011 carpet all the trails with fallen leaves. The wetland grasses die off every fall and open up the views.

Luna in her happy place