A murmuration of starlings murmurs above, to be summarily terminated by a murder of crows.
HYMN: Last day of Summer (MacColl)
Archdruid: As the world turns.
All: And summer turns to autumn.
Archdruid: All the leaves are brown, and the skies are gray.
All: Easy, tiger. It's only just autumn.
Archdruid: Oh first day of autumn and equinoctiality! Oh liminal, limonescent liminality!
All: Oh it's not another liminal thing?
Archdruid: Obviously. This day of cosmic balance and liminal drizzle cake....
All: Is Hnaef gonna do the tightrope walk or not?
Archdruid: Let us celebrate this most balanced of days - where day and night are so evenly matched, as the world circles like a circle, like a wheel within a wheel...
All: HNAEF! DO THE WALK!
Hnaef falls into the Duckpond.
Archdruid: Right. That's a murmuration of starlings and a flock of Aylesburys we've lost. Doing well, for a world-affirming theology. Bring on the badgers.
The badgers approach the worship focus.
All: Aarghh! Badgers!
All may leave through the mush of falling apples.