I'm the kind of person who, on the first hazy day of September, can't help internally reciting "SEASON OF MISTS AND MELLOW FRUITFULNESS" in a fruity, sing-song (but still crucially internal) bellow.
Blue sloes and red rosehips peppering the banks and hedgerows. |
Now that I've got going, I have some words left over - tart, crisp, ripening, rusty, juice-fattened, button-bright and fulgent. I could spend all day leafing through the autumnal lexicon but I'll stop there.
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