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PJW

November 21, 2016

One field gives way to another to the traveler on the plains. On occasion, a treeline marks the boundary. The boles, branches and twigs making up one such treeline had disappeared behind vast expanses of web, less like the spider’s and more like the cheap Halloween synthetic. Sensing my disquiet, my father took some time to recall the webworm‘s uncertain virtues and vices and noted, not without a hint of pride, just how everything on the plains is eating everything else.

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