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Harbinger of Doom

Every season has it’s harbinger.

The first train service disrupted by leaves reminds us that autumn is on the way.

Eddying drain pools tell us the leaves are now successfully clogging the sewers, and winter is near.

These temporary blockages are swiftly removed, making a terrific compost that nurtures the first daffodils of spring, giving us hope that good weather and good times are ahead once more, and then, as the winsome joy of sunshine-halo afternoons begins to fill our hearts, the harbinger of summer floats into our unsuspecting homes.

The summertime harbinger is of course not hayfever, but the first noisy muppet with a stereo in their back garden, banging out a loop of brainless dance tracks.

If humans can’t be considerate towards their next-door neighbours, and indeed, the neighbours a long way down the road, what hope do they have of peacefully sharing the planet?

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