Tuesday, September 1

Nat King Cole

You can guess what happened: as soon as the revellers departed the sun came out and the temperature increased three degrees. A muster of peafowl appeared and began playing tag with the ponies, although I’m not sure this was related. This morning the sky is clean and blue, the ridge a golden hue – our moon, absent for days, sits above full and bright. September arrives and the yard is already littered with autumn leaves – there’s a song there somewhere.

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