The end of the season.

Autumn is upon us. The mornings are dewy, the evenings are nippy, and the trees are decked in the myriad shadings of brown that pass for "fall color" in this part of Midgard. It gets dark early. The human female is more and more inclined to sit at home and less and less to go for a walk.

So I have come out without her. I have found a wooden bridge over this very interesting little pond.


It is full of oozy mud, wriggly bugs, and not a little trash.

I have been accused of being unsentimental and selfish and stingy. I will have you know that this is most untrue. Why, at this very moment, I am contemplating what manner of delightful souvenir I can take home to the human female. She is feeling poorly today and is quite fond of surprises. So I will leave it in her bed to keep her company…



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