“Summer’s end’s around the bend, just flying,” – John Prine

The afternoon couldn’t make up its mind between sunny skies, cold winds and clouds threatening rain. I decided to spend those hours traveling gray-graveled backroads, looking for some respite from the hurry here and there of everything. I wanted to see if I could still hear myself think.

I felt as though the overcast skies had found their way into my bloodstream, leaving me feeling like my veins were filled with lead and my brain was sagging. That’s exactly that kind of feeling that lets me know it’s time to get outside. I was out in a part of the peninsula I only get to visit in passing, usually only when I’m on my way to someplace else. I was hoping this opportunity to turn down a few of these roads I had rarely, if ever, been

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