It was cold and windy, but sunlight peeked through the canopy, casting trapezoidal
shadows over vivid green sphagnum. After actively searching for cranberry girdlers, I
decided they probably were not as present in the winter. The cold forced them to burrow
beneath layers of peat for warmth, amongst histories of footprints, preserves, and brown
noise sheddings. It was a site of convergence—the other seven bogs’ reflections shown in
the water. Nearby The Bogs was the Bog Ice Arena in Kingston, Mass., obviously titled for
its proximity. A brigade of teenage girls practiced their figure skating.
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