Being of Russian/Finnish/German/Swiss extraction, I am totally sympatico with these, my leafy friends, climatewise. We both wilt a little in the August heat, both long to bolt another searing summer day on the Snake River plain. But these cool November days make us raise our chartreause and bronze limbs to the sky. Even gather round and embrace a little maple angel fallen from above.
November is the color of pheasants. November is for lettuce. November is for me.
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