Not really a hike - just an amble down the road to Copeland Lake to watch the sunset. The warmth of the day still lingers, not a breath of a breeze. Voices from returning fishermen float along in the air. But it feels like the end of a season, not just the end of a day. Hanging baskets at the house by the lake have disappeared along with the owners. A few aspen leaves at the bend in the road have turned golden. Spring has collided with autumn, with a few memorable weeks in between.
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