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Autumn

Autumn

 

The clocks have fallen back to GMT, where they belong for this longitude!

 

A low sun casts lengthy shadows through the increasingly naked trees.

 

The first frost bites the remaining kaleidoscope of leaves.

 

The aroma of wood smoke in the air mingles with that of new mown grass from the last cut.

 

Evening mists on the meadows.

 

Autumn is here.

 

 

TH autumn '17

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