The last dead leaves of fall crackled underfoot, winter-crisp.
Even now I remember those pictures, like pictures in a storybook one loved as a child. Radiant meadows, mountains vaporous in the trembling distance; leaves ankle-deep on a gusty autumn road; bonfires...
Gone are the summer daysand my mind along with them.No longer will I indulgein hopes of getting you back.It is hope that makes these chains heavierand autumnal nights longer.I will merely serve as a m...
Autumn is hereand I am in love.My heart has taken residence in my mind.I pick the crisp ochre leaves and put them in my pocket.I am in love.
The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow...
October proved a riot a riot to the senses and climaxed those giddy last weeks before Halloween.
We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all the...
Watch the beauty of your life tree old leaves falling and allowing new ones to sprout !
Beauty for some provides escape, who gain a happiness in eyeing the gorgeous buttocks of the ape or Autumn sunsets exquisitely dying.
I put quite a few trees in last autumn. A lot of silver birch and a couple of native trees - just generally doing gardening, putting plants in and hedges in. It takes quite a lot of time and I love it...
The house was very quiet, and the fog—we are in November now—pressed against the windows like an excluded ghost.
