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Angler's poem in October, verse two: Skalkaho autumn

Summary by Seeley Swan Pathfinder
Sunday was one of those crisp, clear, Indian Summer days I had been longing for since the smoke cleared. Like a lot of people I feel robbed of summer. Now its counterpart, and always my favorite time of year, is here. Our neighbors recently invited us to pick MacIntosh apples from their trees. Jan picked the apples and will make a pie. The leaves on our trees turned color and just as soon started...
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