An equinoctial gale is blowing through Stratford, wrenching leaves off the trees and tossing everything about. Rain will follow, fer sure. After a long night at the District Returning Office and an early morning Zoom meeting about the choir’s annual general meeting on Friday, I’m going back to bed. A tornado might disturb me, but nothing milder is likely to catch my attention. The slamming door you heard yesterday was Summer leaving the building. Welcome to Autumn, everyone, or Spring if that’s your orientation.
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