Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 13 · column 3 of 3 · from the scan, no model involved
$1iadaw& Here I ponder autumn’s treasure: The dappled shade that haunts a glade from golden trees silently resting. Their shadows casting kisses on the leaves. An errant still-warm breeze caress their limbs and rustle their crimson’s last good-bye, each murmured shuffle a wave farewell against a brilliant azure sky. Time's gifted secret from autumn's mystery has brought demise to the Maple’s green; it seems to all the end has come but autumn's just a memory in the spring. The lawn is a reservoir of golden haze, basking leaves turning mundane to blaze. Pumpkins wear the leaves in mock despair, while squirrels languish in the slanting sun, and slowly preen. The shadows play with gentle puffs of air that waft and swirl the leaves to twirl, their dance of jov exhumed from gilded fallen yesterdays. Cynthia Stamps Woodville
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