September 25
...serving up your daily dish.
We raise the question only because Friday was the first day of autumn.
September 25, 2005 in Barista's Sunday Poll | Permalink
I love the sound of a high school marching band at half time...it sounds like victory.
Posted by: John L | Sep 25, 2005 2:13:31 PM
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
Posted by: cstarling | Sep 25, 2005 2:48:49 PM
Autumn for me as well. Love the fall foliage, I run faster, pumpkins, Halloween, my birthday, no humidity, Thanksgiving, sweaters....
Posted by: Miss Martta | Sep 25, 2005 2:53:09 PM
Two words: leaf blowers. Talk amongst yourselves and discuss.
Posted by: Jim | Sep 25, 2005 5:11:03 PM
When I lived out West, I used to like Fall best... now that I live here, it only means Winter is around the corner...
ugh..
Posted by: Pam | Sep 25, 2005 5:40:13 PM
gotta be fall. Love it when it starts to turn a little cooler, when it's time to put on a sweater, and, above all, the day out in the country to pick apples. The best way I have ever found to usher in a season.
Posted by: sue | Sep 25, 2005 7:17:45 PM
Used to be fall, but as I grow older I miss the light more. Spring means six months of long days ahead...
Posted by: walleroo | Sep 25, 2005 9:56:00 PM
To Autumn
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;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
-- John Keats
Posted by: Chris | Sep 26, 2005 8:08:59 AM
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted gray
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell he so,
And they are better for her praise.
"My November Guest" by Robert Frost
Oh yes, I love autumn.
Waiting for November ...
Posted by: Nancy | Sep 26, 2005 8:43:29 PM
I used to love the bitter/sweetness of Fall but now that we have a community pool, I enjoy the time spent there with my 8 year old daughter and I think of that future Autumn as she goes off to some place of higher learning spreading her wings into the future and a life looking toward Spring.
Posted by: PAZ | Sep 26, 2005 9:58:31 PM
