Though summer is still burning, the return of children to school and the hardy work of the backyard squirrels turns my mind towards fall. I find myself in consideration of the consequences of the previous months; a weighing of my progress towards my goals and obligations. I sympathize with the squirrels, hastened in their work by the knowledge of limited days. I feel the pressure of my own harvest, the enormity of the tasks ahead of me. I worry. I wonder if I will know when it is good enough, when I can shutter the windows and bed into winter. The squirrels look as if they will continue until the frost. I suppose then, that I shall too.
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