Still spring evenings.  When the setting Sun lights up the sky and the Mockingbirds give their last few chirpings before going to bed. The crickets start their music and there is a gentle breeze blowing through the grass.
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I heard the bells on Christmas Day. Their old, familiar carols play. And wild and sweet the words repeatof peace on earth, good-will to men!
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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