quotations about autumn
The nights are becoming cooler and the early morning dews heavier, as well as some significant rain. These are all good signs that autumn is well and truly here. However you consider this changing of the season, it is a prompting to all vegetable gardeners that it is time to get your winter vegetables planted out before cooler temperatures arrive.
GARETH CARTER
"Time to plant for winter veggies!", Wanganui Chronicle, March 29, 2016
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 cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.
JOHN KEATS
"To Autumn"
Now winds are wild, and sere leaves fall;
A dying glory mantles all;
I sit and watch the tears of rain
Steal slowly down the window-pane.
The wailing of the Autumn blast
Stirs many a dead leaf of the Past
Within my soul; I seem to hear
The wan lips of the dying year,
Mournfully, oh, mournfully,
Chant a low, sad melody!
ALBERT LAIGHTON
"In Memoriam"
Autumn, with its golden fruitage, waving fields, and gentle airs, its forests of variegated hue, its brown hillsides regally clothed in purple, and its still waters slumbering in the drowsy sunshine, is exceedingly beautiful.
CHARLES J. PETERSON
"The Summer Time", Brother Jonathan, vol. 5
Autumn is the time when fruits ripen on the trees and in a good year branches are laden with rosy apples, deep red and yellow crab apples and golden pears.
MALCOLM HILLIER
The Book of Fresh Flowers
Autumn is Nature's last party of the year. And dressing for the occasion, forests don their brightest attire, while the creatures follow suit with plush coats of fur. As the birds savor their final flights in the waning embers of light, Nature's children scamper about in search of manna for their winter pantries, pausing long enough to frolic in the heaps of newly fallen leaves.
DEBRA WELSH
"Autumn Suppers", Orange Coast Magazine, Oct. 1983
There are those who shudder at the approach of Autumn, and who feel a light grief stealing over their spirits, like an October haze, as the evening shadows slant sooner, and longer, over the face of an ending August day. But is not Autumn the Manhood of the year? Is it not the ripest of the seasons? Do not proud flowers blossom -- the golden-rod, the orchis, the dahlia, and the bloody cardinal of the swamp-lands? The fruits too are golden, hanging heavy from the tasked trees. The fields of maize show weeping spindles, and broad rustling leaves, and ears half glowing with the crowded corn; the September wind whistles over their thick-set ranks with whispers of plenty. The staggering stalks of the buckwheat grow red with ripeness, and tip their tops with clustering tricornered kernels.
DONALD G. MITCHELL
"Autumn"
Autumn is arguably the most fashionable time of the year in London. Autumnal weather marks the return of dapperly dressed men, sexy trench coats, and knee high boots.
CHEYLENE THONGKHAM
"14 reasons autumn is the best time of the year in London", Metro, September 20, 2015
Autumn is full of new things: new schedules, new jobs, new schools, new assignments. It's no wonder why some of us experience heart palpitations trying to process it all.
THERESE BORCHARD
"Autumn Anxiety Is Real, And Treatable", Huffington Post, September 28, 2015
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.
WALT WHITMAN
"Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun"
The god, September, has paused for a moment here, garlanded with crimson leaves. He held a branch of fruited oak. He smiled like Hermes the beautiful cut in marble.
RICHARD ALDINGTON
"Church Walk, Kensington"
Spring is beautiful, and summer is perfect for vacations, but autumn brings a longing to get away from the unreal things of life, out into the forest at night with a campfire and the rustling leaves.
MARGARET ELIZABETH SANGSTER
"The Gypsy Spirit"
Autumn is the Sabbath of the year; the time to think of all the past: nature's calm twilight before the darkness. It does make all men think at times; even the lightest and the worst. The distant days of our springtime, our faded summer, comes over us like a dream. We sit in the evening of our life in tender musings, and all that has been takes shadowy form again, and passes through the thoughts.
GEIKIE CUNNINGHAM
"The Sabbath of the Year"
The beautiful feet of the summer,
So late by the woodland and rill,
With slow, lingering movement are going
Down the brown, southern slopes of the hills;
Her dreamy-eyed sister, the autumn,
Looks down at the summer-clad trees,
And, 'neath her cool breathing, a garment
Of brown is put on by the leaves.
MARY T. LATHRAP
"The Parting with Summer"
Autumn, that wild season when rural men rack orchard trees with sticks and weep with the desire to kiss faraway Demeter's supple breasts--to set lips to her travel-swollen eyes.
ROMAN PAYNE
Rooftop Soliloquy
The mellow autumn came, and with it came
The promised party, to enjoy its sweets.
The corn is cut, the manor full of game;
The pointer ranges, and the sportsman beats
In russet jacket;--lynx-like is his aim;
Full grows his bag, and wonderful his feats.
Ah, nutbrown partridges! Ah, brilliant pheasants!
And ah, ye poachers!--'Tis no sport for peasants.
LORD BYRON
Don Juan
Those dreary autumn days make for great Instagram shots.
CHEYLENE THONGKHAM
"14 reasons autumn is the best time of the year in London", Metro, September 20, 2015
Remember that Brady Bunch episode where Marsha signs up for every activity possible, from scuba diving to cheerleading? Every autumn, many of us fight an inner Marsha who wants to volunteer our time to anyone who asks -- or doesn't. Something about the season screams: "Sign up! Sign up! This is your LAST chance to do something worthwhile with your life!" Next thing we know, we're the assistant coach for two rec leagues, spearheading fundraisers across town, and running ourselves ragged.
THERESE BORCHARD
"Autumn Anxiety Is Real, And Treatable", Huffington Post, September 28, 2015
In the season of white wild roses
We two went hand in hand:
But now in the ruddy autumn
Together already we stand.
FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE
A Song of Spring and Autumn
Autumn is leaving its mellowness behind for its spiky, rotted stage. Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.
DAVID MITCHELL
Cloud Atlas