A pause in the drive, and a request

Friends, The leaves are turning, the light is softening, the air is growing crisper. Construction workers are building a deck for my next-door neighbor’s house; saws and drills drone endlessly through the morning. Every evening, a blue jay screeches from a tree on my street. Most afternoons, a jazz band performs from a neighbor’s driveway. This is my white noise, these sounds of the suburbs.

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