Today our street closed for a few hours because of a gas leak. So after Tom came home from school, we went out on the road and played frisbee for an hour or so. It was one of those slightly surreal occasions when you know you shouldn't be doing something but in fact you are. Reflexive force of habit kept me somewhat on edge, looking out for cars, even though I knew that there were adequate road blocks in place. And of course, this brought back for Nadia and me the many times we played out on our respective suburban roads as children, and how completely normal that was. I can remember kicking a ball with a friend for hours on end with very few cars in evidence. Drivers also seemed to be more careful on residential roads as these were clearly places that kids played.
Darkness is setting in more quickly each day now, and winter seems to be really only just around the corner. Or maybe, at the end of the long trails of golden leaves that are pretty much everywhere at the moment. Or even in the heaps that congregate in chaotic entanglements of orange and red, at any obliging ditch.
And still, and yet, huge events elsewhere reverberate on the same wind that draws these leaves to the ground. And there are really only questions to ask, ultimately.
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