falling of leaves

“Waning Summer” by Willard Metcalf
“Waning Summer” by Willard Metcalf

The time of the falling of leaves has come again. Once more in our morning walk we tread upon carpets of gold and crimson, of brown and bronze, woven by the winds or the rains out of these delicate textures while we slept.

How beautifully leaves grow old! How full of light and color are their last days!

~ John Burroughs
(Under the Maples)

Welcome Autumn!

20 thoughts on “falling of leaves”

    1. It would be so wonderful, Laurie. But even if it isn’t often said of people, there are many elderly among us who are beautiful and full of light, if only more of us would take the time to look…

    1. But Sonali, surely the seasons bring pretty things to see in your part of the world! If you ever do come to America for a visit, try to plan your adventure here in New England in October!

    1. But you can’t think of the colours as passive beauty – not when there is so much interactive crunching as you walk over the bright carpet.

          1. Kathy, I love autumn and its fluttering, falling colors, too. Sometimes it seems like the leaves are dancing in the wind. I think I’m doing all right – it’s frustrating trying to grieve with the other problem still underfoot.

            We plan to bury our dad’s ashes up on the Cape on October 17, our mom’s birthday. And then there is my new “job” as executrix… Thanks so much for checking up on me!

      1. Paul, you have reminded me of a poem about an autumn walk I wrote for an English class in high school. It had a line in it which I thought was pretty clever, something about ‘crunching on an apple and then on a twig.’ My teacher thought it made no sense at all because one kind of crunching was done with a mouth and the other kind was done with a foot. Sigh… I was so hurt!

        1. Philistine teacher! (With apologies to Palestinians.)
          You’ve just reminded me of an early poem too –
          Two boots through the forest walks
          Crashing through the bracken stalks
          …and then something about a rabbit darting out – bob tail…no the rest has gone.

          1. Crunching and crashing – we humans do make a lot of noise as we tramp through the woods…

    1. Thank you so much for the big hug, Sybil! I love the fall and the way it smells, too. I need to get out for a good walk soon, before it’s all over.

  1. Autumn beautifully captured in words and visions! The magic of this season seems to capture our imaginations like no other! The air is fresher, the colors are richer, the transit from wakefulness to sleep leaves its wisdom behind!

    1. Jeff, your words are delightful poetry! That crisp autumn air… Bye, bye, oppressive humidity, welcome pumpkins on the porches, fresh air and the rustling of leaves!

    1. Thank you, Robin. I wish I was out enjoying the autumn more than I seem to be able to lately, but hopefully things will be more conducive to it next year… 🙂

  2. Hi Barbara. Our leaves are almost gone here … just the oaks and beech are still in colour. I like the story about your crunching poem. I think you showed a lot of insight to equate the two sounds in your poem. jane

    1. Jane, thank you for your kind words about my crunching poem – I’ve been looking for it and if I find it I will share it here. Our colors are peaking right now – time to get out there for a long walk with the camera…

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