One evening in August, you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden, it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.
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August is the border between summer and autumn. It is the most beautiful month I know.
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Beeldspreuken
One evening in August, you have an errand outdoors, and all of a sudden, it’s pitch-black. It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive.
August is the border between summer and autumn. It is the most beautiful month I know.