The weather last night was that if you realize just before retiring to bed, past night into early morn, that trash pickup was coming, you could dash downstairs where the bags were waiting, out from under the rising curtain of the garage door, through the audience of crisp leaves which would titter and scatter about your ankles, in nothing but a tshirt and athletic fitted capris, barefoot, looking cute, and giggle as you trotted carrying trash thinking on the briskness beneath the moonlight. So perfectly, pleasingly autumn.
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The weather today was clearly winter, all dull grayness and a threat of snow that never came but taunted and bullied everyone into false hopes and fears. A dash today through the parking lot to rehearsal evoked giggles--mixed with pain.
