Around the Community, the realisation of the new season is dawning.
It's that time of year - the long days of summer have gone, and now we have Septembre aux grands soirs équivoque, as the French so glumly put it. But with September comes the return of the playing of Enya, suspended since the last Enyathon of spring. Here in Husborne Crawley we like to make these artificial distinctions - keeps us in the rhythm of the seasons, even when most of our punters work in air-conditioned offices where it's the same temperature, and same artificial lighting, all year round.
So the leaves rustle in the gutters, the fire crackles in the grate, the cider is in the glass - and it's only two days till Enya day. Autumn is a time of sadness, and yet of morose satisfaction.
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