In early November we took a short tram ride out of the city into some nearby woods to marvel at all the Fall colors.   
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| Reminiscent of  the Robert Frost poem: | 
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| Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, |  | 
| And sorry I could not travel both |  | 
| And be one traveler, long I stood |  | 
| And looked down one as far as I could |  | 
| To where it bent in the undergrowth; |  | 
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| (Austin decided to mark his way along.) | 
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| Then took the other, as just as fair, |  |  | And having perhaps the better claim, |  |  | Because it was grassy and wanted wear; |  |  | Though as for that the passing there |  |  | Had worn them really about the same, |  | 
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| And both that morning equally lay |  |  | In leaves no step had trodden black. |  |  | Oh, I kept the first for another day! |  |  | Yet knowing how way leads on to way, |  |  | I doubted if I should ever come back. |  | 
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| I shall be telling this with a sigh |  |  | Somewhere ages and ages hence: |  |  | Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— |  |  | I took the one less traveled by, |  |  | And that has made all the difference. |  | 
Mach's gut,
The EuroFadoks 
 
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