This Emily Brontë poem about autumn is, of course, about places that actually have autumn. It doesn't pertain so much to southeast Texas but I do remember autumns like these and they were my favorite time of year. No wreaths of snow for us here but we can enjoy our shorter days which usher in our most pleasant season. Barring hurricanes, of course.
by Emily Brontë
Fall, leaves, fall;
Fall, leaves, fall;
die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.
Fall has not been quite so splendid as usual, Dorothy. The trees lost their leaves far too early due to drought early in the season, and while there have been some vivid displays, overall it has been a little muted. Days have been unseasonably warm, too, but it is finally starting to feel like fall, with a chill in the morning air. Summer birds are now leaving in droves; in fact many have already departed, and soon the winter migrants will take their place. I am keeping an eye out for the first junco.
ReplyDeleteI wonder if I will see juncos in our neighborhood this winter. Fingers crossed!
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