Lechance

Dear James,

I do hope that you took no chill from our recent walk. Perhaps, following our conversation at that time, you might grant me the pleasure of your company for the Harvest Festival this coming Saturday?

Hoping that this note finds you in peace and health, I remain your humble servant,

Dr. Paul Roberts

Late in the afternoon, a small crowd gathered in a field to participate in the gathering of the final harvest of the season. They loaded it into a decorated horse-drawn wagon and followed it into town, singing songs and waving sheafs of hay.

More people followed along as the parade passed them by, leading them into the square that normally held the merchants but had been cleared earlier for the celebration. There were still a few booths set up but they'd been converted to homes for games. The growing crowd was invited to march to the cathedral for a short service or to stay at the square to help set up for a feast.

Lanterns were lit all around the buildings and the square, casting a warm glow. There was just the slightest nip in the air but that would be dispelled when the dancing started later. Enormous amounts of food were heaped on a banquet table and long tables were set with glittering china and strewn with bouquets of late-blooming flowers.

Dear Ms. Blackwood,
Would you care to accompany me to the Harvest fest?
-Catherine Lenoy