On Wednesday, I got out for a low-key 4-mile lumber, mostly sticking to main paths, before coming home to cut the grass, which adds another 2 miles of walking behind a mower.
Despite the summer-like temps, the woods are becoming increasingly fall-like with each passing day, and while the fall colors are definitely better than the “brown season,” which lasts from November to May, I get a sick feeling in my stomach knowing the psychological torment that I’ll soon be putting myself through over the next few months as well as the omnipresent darkness that will spread over Michigan like a fat man’s nugget sack until the sun returns in May.
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