The about face happens shortly. Leaves upon trees become everyday. The short trousers are rescued from their life amongst Moth. There is the issue of knees, which when concealed are easier not to think about, but which when revealed become a source of anxiety and tirade against The Creator's appalling sense of esthetics and lackadaisical attitude toward design.
There's the cruel decision to stop wearing socks, which means
having to endure awareness of toe nails, which in some of us appear to be
developing increasingly revolting characteristics not least of which is a yellow
hue. And there are freckles which when a mind is in the reverie of high heat and
humidity can suddenly be mistaken for Tics. And all this is merely a
prelude to "Recommencement" or "Creeping Grass."