Autumn

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”
George Eliot

It has been my favourite season for as long as I can remember; perhaps for the relief after the summer heat, or the wonderful still air and the smell of woodsmoke, the morning mists and the dew glistening in the cobwebs , for the blue blue skies and the red, golden, and copper leaves, and for the sound of the leaves falling… and crunching underfoot. Yes, mainly for the leaves. And the pumpkins.

 Come said the wind to
the leaves one day,
Come o’re the meadows
and we will play.
Put on your dresses
scarlet and gold,
For summer is gone
and the days grow cold.

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