John Updike dreamed about golf and wrote of his dreams in prose so lovely and lyrical it inevitably makes me smile... or cry. Really beautiful things do that to me.
Since I started writing this blog I've read volumes on the singular beauty of Augusta National so I probably should have anticipated an emotional response, but my golf roots aren't deep... my family doesn't play and I first picked up a club a mere five years ago... so I thought I'd be fine. --->
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