Extending for miles, hills rolling like ripples of water, out from center, off into forever. Dotted with leafy trees and square white houses. Fields of brown, able dirt, ready for sowing, ready for growing. A lonely autumn sun shines down on the farmers, turning their backs a brown as rich as the soil. Thin white clouds sit calmly in the gallery, watching all that goes on below, smiling at the slow pace and good feelings. October in Ain Medyouna, sitting high above the trash.
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