The fall equinox descends and the sky darkens early. The clouds veil all the stars from view, removing the illusion of endless distance and space, turning the lifeworld into a claustrophobic intimacy. It could be enough to make Dietrich Bonhoeffer get the blues. But, put on some Roberto Goyeneche (maybe "Naranjo en flor"), take in a round of good mate and some aromatic black walnuts, and you'll feel right as rain, as the Oracle once said.
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