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When autumn approaches do you ever smell the wet cold air and the chill that rises up from the ground of an evening, and want to press your cheek to the damp leaves, sink into the earth and sleep?

Do you ever want to pull the blanket of the sleeping earth over you, sink down, and in winter wander under the earth in dreams, whispering and listening to the whispers of all the things also dreaming in the fallow season?

And then in the Spring a part of you wakes and rises up from the greening soil and you want to feel the sun on the backs of your hands and gather the herbs of the forest and field, reaching into the scent of loam and new-opened flowers.