Commencing

After the pomp, the authority vested, the hoods and gowns solemnly waddling, after lemonade on the lawn, chatter, pecking, the graduates flee like a flock of birds, great blackbirds surprised while feeding, scattering plumage, scattering from each other. And then there is a summer silence. Rabbits feed on it boldly, with insouciance. No number of lawnmowers fills the void. Of course it will all start again; again the nest will fill, the noise renew, the transience. But those fledged and gone are gone - as it should be. And sometimes in some far year one hears familiar music from a distant tree, with new notes added. We settle for that.

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

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