Bright autumn leaves fly about like flocks of tiny birds, slowly settling upon the earth. Overhead, a black walnut tree releases its meteoric walnuts, which hurtle whistling toward the earth, punching small craters in the soil with their violent impact.
Small, helpful Brownies and Brees, unafraid of the hurtling walnuts, roll them down the hill to an out of the way bush below, in an attempt to keep us wandering humans from slipping and sliding down the nut-laden slope. I stand and watch them, grateful for their work.
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