I love this time of year when the deadly grasp of summer heat finally releases its fist and once again allows the earth to breathe. The rains return, the temperature gradually lowers, and the harsh gaze of the sun turns from fury to a mild discontent. Azaleas bloom again. The roses produce beautifully fragrant, cut-worthy blossoms. The leaves breathe a sigh of relief on the branches of every tree, and begin their blush for fall.
September is glorious.
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