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� autumnal lament III �


11:41 p.m., 2002-09-23

it's official. i mean, i don't mean to dwell on things (even though i do incessantly), especially since it's not even november yet, but the sunflowers lining route 16 in shrewsbury have hung their heads, heavy with the intensity and fullness of this; such a fertile and merciful season we have had. it has been so long and so fertile and so perfect, in fact, that they have been fooled into believing that everything lasts and can be sustained at a constant and steady rate of productive growth. true to form, the summer has proven to resist stagnation once again. the top heavy gluttonous engorgement of the sunflowers is proof that nature tends to base its environmental reactions on a horribly torturous short term memory. nature can't afford to be a cynic, and as a result the sunflowers strangle themselves as the light dustings of frost begin.

in the arctic circle, during the three-month stints of unmerciful sunlight, sunflowers attempt to face the sun 24 hours a day. they follow the sun as it travels around the horizon and choke themselves off. this happens in the fall.

just another reason that even the earth's laws of nature hate the fall.

this veiled metaphor has been brought to you by autumn in new england.


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