Autumn is coming

Autumn is coming. In the park the horse chestnut trees yield a small crop of conkers this year, but the leaves crop well and hearty. I dislike autumn because my thoughts turn to winter, when all is cold and when old men die. The words of a forgotten French song, I heard many years ago, run through my mind. I do not know who sang it or who wrote it, but the voice of the singer is deep and illustrious in the ears of my mind.

“Pourtant, que la montagne est belle
Comment peut-on s’imaginer
En voyant un vol d’hirondelles
Que l’automne vient d’arriver?”.

I think of winter, failing to enjoy the fruits of autumn. An Englishman wrote

O may no wintry season, bare and hoary,
See it half finished: but let Autumn bold,
With universal tinge of sober gold,
Be all about me when I make an end!

I understand.

One Response

  1. My bees never ventured out much this season, the June gap became a July and August one too, so no pollination and no fruit, but the trees are golden the same the entire length of the riversde nearby.

    In this modern world and all there is science, people tend to take for granted that nature herself is reliant upon the sun as much as we are upon her. In the past when two crop yields failed around 25% of the population died. In human terms today due to commoditors that is almost an entire medieval army, like the one seen on the field of Agincourt.

    And my heart felt thoughts, go out to the 55,000 hungry souls at deaths door and not old, in the heat and in the cold.

    The true beauty of autumn is seen for what she is, at no cost to mans kinds and false tokens, if we leave it there for the next generation to enjoy, alas, road and mechanical floorings are in houses that will fail, but the eyes have it, or must have it regardless.

    Autumn will come and go, our garden is the little Eden we made of it, still full of the natural to share, and spring will around again, then hopefully humanity ,will remember.

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