55 As the clouds cleared, spring’s life came back again, and the man of open weather could only think of Nature. How she had come so quickly, looked down upon him as he stared up. The smile retreated from his lips as spring developed into a new beginning. The man of open weather had tried to remember how he had felt about the weather, but he could not. He had gone inside again, watching his emotions, from the outside, feeling the emptiness in his head. He shut the window once again. They called him the man of closed weather.
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