Today was a simple day in the Shire. A humble, unremarkable day in the month of Winterfilth by Shire Reckoning. The golden and red leaves of Autumn wiggle and dance in the gentle breeze. Most people would be too busy to notice a simple day like this, but I could see the signs. That special fragrance in the air, the sparkling dew drops hanging tenderly on a spider cobweb, the warm breeze blowing unusually from the east.
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