Somedays are so so pretty, I just want to hug them. Or eat them. They're so perfectly warmish but coolish enough for a soft long-sleeved sweater. They're perfect for sitting outside a coffee shop and watching other happy humans buy things they don't need, smile at people they don't know, and bop their heads to music they barely hear.
I think a pretty day in New Orleans is prettier than any beautiful day in some other city. But I am fantastically biased...
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