Next weekend, the clock go back an hour to save daylight. What we save if we put the calendar back 100 years?
The layers of leaves under the Turkey oak are thick and enticing. The leaves are dry and scrunchy. As I walk through them, I kick them up in the air. They rustle and crackle. I kicked my way through leaves like that when I was a child. And my children did too. I am glad that I have remembered how to do it.
In uncut grass, dandelion clocks are scattered like a white faced crowd waiting for something to happen.
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