Thursday, September 18, 2008

Things I love About Autumn

01. the weather is perfect for sweaters and sweatshirts

02. friday night high school football games

03. crunchy leaves

04. long walks in early evenings

05. harvest moon

06. sleeping with the window open

07. chilly nights are perfect for staying in and watching old movies or reading a good book

08. warming up cold little noses and rosy little cheeks

09. chai tea in the mornings

10. the rare warm day that makes you believe for a second that it's summer again

11. leaf dodging

12. taking pictures of my kids playing in the leaves

13. hunting for just the right pumpkin (aka "punkin")



by John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottages-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind,
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or, by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, --
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Happy Fall Ya'll!


  1. Love the poem and love that you write friday night high school football games. Those are the best.

  2. Wow! What a lot of memories wer conjured up in your Top 10 list. MMMMMM...I can almost hear those leaves. Here in Florida we have Really Hot, not quite as hot, and still a little bit too hot for sweaters...Yet every Floridian still has 2 or 3 jackets in the closet that we have in hopes we may one day use them.

  3. fisher or men: Yeah and I have a bathing suit stuffed in a drawer somewhere in the hopes that I might use it


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