"And just at
that second, the wind picked up, and thousands upon thousands of yellow
sycamore leaves broke from their life support and streamed across the sky.
Autumn leaves don’t fall; they fly. They take their time and wander on this,
their only chance to soar. Reflecting sunlight, they swirled and sailed and
fluttered on the wind drafts."
Friday, January 17, 2020
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