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Last Of The Fall Leaves
By Artur Ciesielski | Places
It’s now Winter and the last of the fall leaves await their final drop.
The smell of decaying leaves, the crackle under the wheels and the burst of the final colors before the branches lay bare in the light blue sky signal that my favorite season is at hand, sans the snow.
Okay, the real reason I rode today was actually to go pick up a loaf of fresh bread from Pane Bianco.
