“The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.
Blake To Autumn
Photo courtesy of Cath Tregillis.
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Soprano
Mostly books, with a little wine writing on the side
Book reviews, poetry and all kinds of literary fun
Book reviews, poetry and all kinds of literary fun
Perfect.
So autumn comes to southern climes: bid farewell now to summer, the best of times. The worst of times? When fingers get much number…
Autumn is my favourite. Sharp mornings and clear sunny days. It’s exhilarating.
I find each transition exquisite, but sometimes the season can outlast its welcome! Sharp mornings and clear sunny days are ideal for autumn but in the UK it can often be a cue for dismal days of so-called Welsh mist or that peculiar halfway point between mist and drizzle known as mizzle — not much fun.
PS Did you like my concealed rhyming couplets above? 🙂
summer..number? Hmmm, err, as the pomo member of the acting troupe in Upstart Crow would say.
How cold does it get there in the winter?
Leslie
I looked it up for you. Average temp about 6-14 degrees C, which is 43-57 F. It can drop to below zero overnight but not in the daytime.
What a lovely photo
From a highly accomplished photographer.