Tightly Curled

I went for a brisk walk through Brandt’s Creek today: soggy, spongy pathway; flooded, fast flowing creek; McDuck reposing on the banks – bills neatly tucked beneath wings. My favourite spot: willow tree: a gentleman: sparse, receding hairline; the usual parade of greying well-wishers led by tightly curled lap dogs (makes me wonder who has whom on the leash.).  In short, Brandt’s is as alive in late Autumn as it is in deep Summer.  What is the silence like, here at night?


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