Ems wants outside. When I open the door he and I both stand there for a minute. Woodstoves are going- we may have snow tonight- and we smell maple burning. That sweet smell, the sap that rises in the Spring and is boiled down to yummy syrup, burns in the wood and fills the air.
Ems goes out and I watch him from the window, nose in air, stock still, enjoying being a dog.
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