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Those who live on East Waldo Road are probably excited about the road work going on midway down the dirt portion of the road, where they dumped all the large rock last spring. It looks like they are laying down new plastic over the existing road bed and bringing in new dirt over it. They’re also doing some true ditch work.

We won’t know how well things hold up until the road has experienced some wear and weather, but it is encouraging to see. Here’s hoping they put in a crown on the road (a notorious problem in Waldo) and the washboard is addressed.

The dump truck traffic has been pretty intense because of this work. I think we should consider a town policy where contractors ask their drivers to slow down. We live in a neighborhood with young kids and dogs who sometimes go in the road. This is not Route 7 or even 131; there is no reason big dump trucks should be racing back and forth at 45 mph or more.

Here we are at the end of August. The last couple of years the transition between seasons has sometimes been disorienting and this time is no different. Late August used to be evening dinners outside on someone’s lawn, mismatched tables pushed together covered with plates and bowls and drinks and the remains of fresh summer food. The light would fade in earnest as we reached for the long sleeve off the back of the chair. Now the last week of August is July-never-ending.

Autumn will come; it always does. The dry air is a promise, even if it is later and later. I have come to love the long, stretched-out Octobers and Novembers that drift into December. I miss the magic of the end of August, though, just leaning into September for a first kiss.

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