The Drummond Diaries 10/23/72 How crisp the air is at this time of year. The day was cool and golden with the last leaves of the year scurrying across the road like errant autumn nut gatherers. Everything is laying in and lying fallow for the upcoming winter.
Odd that the willows hold out for as long as they do.
But the walk after school was a refreshing feast for the senses. Great splashes of gold on withered gray limbs, stone walls snaking away into the forest. A wisp of the familiar on the air. And my soul somehow still very far away.
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