Winter rest

Frozen Terrace is a board. Every sole looks open on a board.

From December through March the prairie becomes a drum. Dye on a board is not dye on rye. We will still write a winter chord if that is when you play, but we will not let you take that voicing into April without an addendum.

People who store irons in a trunk through a polar night sometimes return with hosels that have already crept. Nils checks the stamp against the last ledger before anyone talks about turf. If the iron moved in the cold, that is a metal story, not a prairie story.

The rye strip in the loft is kept alive under a lamp. It is a poor substitute for Falls Park, and we say so. It is still truer than a rubber mat.