At eight a.m., the sun peaks shyly through the clouds. Rain gently drips through green leaves, and although we're closer to autumn, for a few minutes it feels like spring.
At eleven a.m., the sky is dark and ominous. Rain falls mournfully from the clouds, and it feels like summer is over.
At four p.m., lightening flashes in the sky. A heavy downpour batters the ground like a summer storm.
At nine p.m., the sun has already set. Icy drizzle falls from the sky, a messenger of winter.
As I look out from behind my glass pane, the seasons change in a matter of hours. And I'm thinking I should have taken my jacket after all.
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