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Two days after the election sunshine has dispelled the chilly rain that shrouded the true debate taking place at voting booths in our precinct over the fate of this nation. The warm th of the sun does not absolve us from the grim imperative which drove the political machinery during the run up to November 7, but as many events in nature it may signal a change: a time of preparation in the garden in the fall for the crops to be planted in spring and the harvest such stewardship hopes to reap. So I’ll take my leave of politics for a few hours to gather and mulch fallen leaves to enrich the soil for planting next spring. Sacrifice and renewal comes in too many metaphors to be named, examples of this cycle abound in the past and the present: Here, here to Emerson, I think he knew it best.
