Autumn has always been my favorite season. The color changes, the feel of impending winter and the thought that another year is ending always has gotten me worked up.
I woke up this morning around 2 am to the melancholy sound of foghorns. One would sound, then farther off another and so on. They sang their mournful song around the inlet, warning anyone on the water of dangers. I found it eerily comforting as they sang me back to sleep.
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