Itโs That Season again, the season of descending from all corners of the world and stomping across fields. Stomp, for thereโs a burning desire to get close. Stomp, so colors of purple, yellow and orange can be touched, smelt and plucked for a personal share. Stompโฆ โฆ
Thereโs a reason itโs a season. They come and they go. All I wanted to say is โmy thoughts and prayers to you, the lavenders, sunflowers and wheat that didnโt make it to the endโ. Itโs a jungle out there. RIP.
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