This is probably the best time of year to be living in New England. The sky gets all moody, flocks of birds start migrating (south I presume), and the trees start catching on fire ever so slightly. The temperature facilitates between a crisp cool wind and the gentle warmth of the sun. It's close to perfect as you can get.
Last night I happened to pass an old cemetery I used to see all the time as a kid. To my left the clouds were purplish-gray, to my right the sun was slowly setting and the sky was clear. The juxtaposition of dark and light was mesmerizing.
I tend to find large cemeteries to be incredibly beautiful places, one tends to forget you are among the dead. In fact the sounds of nature get amplified - everything the trees, the birds, the grass, and even the wind is more immediate - life, or at least nature, reasserts itself among the dead.
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