Bison Hill – Jimmi Campkin

June is the worst month.  None of the fresh optimism of spring, the frenetic blustery energy of July or the languidly horizontal effortlessness of heavy, lazy August.  June doesn’t smell… unlike moist Autumn with her crispy leaves decaying under our feet, the clingy humid soil covering our skin like an overly affectionate friend.  June is …

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