It feels like the end of summer, even though that's a month away.
On Monday we had rain, pounding, torrential rain, the first rain of August. It watered the parched grass, and has left my front flower patch smelling of ambient lavender. Beautiful.
But it also beat some of the already autumnal coloured leaves from the trees, and now it seems as though they are patchy. On one side of the park, still summer, the other side sliding into the fall.
This evening, in spite of the lingering, residual heat from the day, as I brought Whisky back into the house after his evening doings, I felt that gentle reminder that September's on her way. Just something intangible in the air.
Yesterday, one of Canada's favourite politicians died. Jack Layton was a man whom everyone seemed to love, although none embraced his politics, he was a sparky, intelligent man who fought hard for gender rights. We knew he was ill, we didn't know how ill. He leaves a gaping hole in the political party that he led, with no obvious successor.
And as though to truly herald the autumn, it seems that Vancouver hosts an annual Zombie walk.
Well why not?
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