I used to think that, for the
most part, summer progressed smoothly into autumn, and autumn into winter, each
day taking the next step on the way. Then I began to pay attention. Each season
often has a pause, as though the earth is having second thoughts and is
reluctant to let go of what has been.
A few days of unseasonably
warm weather in autumn is often called Indian Summer, and yet it doesn’t feel
like summer or autumn, but something that is all its own.
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