Time definitely begins to speed up after the Summer Solstice. Clearly it's a downhill. And one of these years I'll not make it to the Winter Solstice. Probably in town, during the Christmas decoration season, some blowup Santa Claus or Singing Rein Deer in the grocery aisle will do it to me. Give the stock boys a little excitement. And too I already never go into town during the Christmas period without clean underpants, so it's been years in the making.
God only knows what'll happen to the Compost Piles. Pretty convinced the two
Toads that live there will be made delighted by the peace and quite of my sudden
disappearance. There'll be no iron discipline left down there of course. Sticks
will go in the wrong place. Long term, medium term, short term composting will
cease to have meaning. But fair warning I fully intend to do a little haunting
when I'm gone from the earthly plane.