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  • The wind roars through the forest. It doesn't howl; that would be too thin and lonely a noise. No, this wind is massive, broad, deep, multiply voiced, an invisible mob on the move. Tall trees creak, complain, snarl in response.

    Above the treetops a crescent moon tries to embrace a single, fat star. Lunar brilliance flares across snowdrifts and untrustworthy ice. Rocks, maple boles, woodstacks cut holes in the brilliance.

Collecting stories is a way to gather your favorite Cowbird stories into shareable collections — kind of like assembling personal anthologies.

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      Sprouting a story is a way to respond to one story with a story of your own — kind of like sitting around a campfire and following the flow of conversation.

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