You know the evil that men do, hell is where the men go. We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window: "Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown, Buck, buck, buck, take that with you on the way down." I'm hoping you got springs and wings on your shoes, But you lose, because I got the Ill Street Blues.
When all the world appears to be in a tumult, and nature itself is feeling the assault of climate change, the seasons retain their essential rhythm. Yes, fall gives us a premonition of winter, but then, winter, will be forced to relent, once again, to the new beginnings of soft greens, longer light, and the sweet air of Spring.