The Richland Springs Report

I spent the fading hours of Saturday sitting on my porch and enjoying the sounds of the evening. The winds had died down to a soft murmur, the crickets and frogs were chirping away, the birds were making their little night songs, and the sky was touched with delicate pink clouds. Could life be any better? I’m sure it could, but not at this moment. I heard the Coyote game Friday evening on the…

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