Loving these Autumn skies
Our street is quite leafy these days ...
... and they all belong to our neighbors since our maples have all been cut down
Walkers ~ Neil and me ~ around the block
Fall Break ~ grandson Elijah amuses himself by throwing a baseball on the roof ~ and over the roof
Elijah loves the gourds and picked this one out when we went pumpkin shopping ~ it weighs 9 and a half pounds
Tradition ~ taking pictures of the grandpeeps with my scarecrow I rescue from the attic every Autumn ~ Shelby named him 'Jeff' when she was about six and would dance around the porch with him ~ they've outgrown him, it seems
When it's fall, pumpkins are my weakness ~ I can never buy just one
Neil dug up our daffodil bulbs ~ they've multiplied since he first planted them ~ we should enjoy a bumper crop next spring
“AUTUMNAL
Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson
Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.
Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.
Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.
Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson
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