notes from the outer world.

10am and on. Conversations, in the backyard, loud enough to be annoying. Janitor and his crowd are pushing for what seems early autumn cleanup, and setting stage and assigning tasks to people quietly reluctant to work apparently is an important part of this. (Also, missing the heron that woke up on the roof once in a while, most of last summer. Maybe that's because fishes became scarce in the small artificial pond. Or maybe they're just hiding from the sun.)

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