Hay bales at sunset

Hay, hay, my, my

All the greens go brown. The bats and swallows looping and swooping. The sinking sun makes us 20 feet tall in our shadows. Autumn walks. T-shirt and scarf weather. Horse chestnuts and beech nuts crunch like a bowl of healthy cereal underfoot. The sycamore helicopters dizzy dance down to the ground. All the berries, all the birds. All the mice, all the cats. All the pheasants all the dogs. All the leaves fall off the trees.

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