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Monday, 15 September 2008

Sunday morning


Yesterday I stood by my window, sipping a cup of tea. Mornings are a treat with the chirping birds, the lawn-mower's song and the whistling winds. I often meet the regulars outside my house in Thane. A squirrel who hunts for something to munch, a few pigeons pecking at grains thrown at them and a myena couple playing hide-and-seek with each other. Not to forget the yellow leaves on the parking lot.

"The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly
changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools."
- Henry Beston

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