I considered Bak 2 Skool. But decided, no.
One morning, a crow calls, staccato and sudden, seemingly breaking their silence since early summer all in a flurry of outcry and warning. Summer is ending!
Another morning and there is a surprising dew, every blade of grass is bejewelled, reflecting light and image, a tiny fisheye vignette of the world evaporating with the sun.
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