Celebrating Autumn

Hello everyone –

Autumn arrived in the Northern Hemisphere yesterday (Thursday, 9/22 @ 9:21 AM CDT), although we still have very summerlike weather here in Central Illinois. Nonetheless, seasonal changes are all around us in Nature: the Sun is rising later and setting earlier, the Harvest Moon was shining brightly last weekend, and the leaves are just starting to turn on a few trees around Chambanaland.

To celebrate the official arrival of autumn, here are a few of my favorite poems about my favorite season of the year!

“Fall Is Here” by Helen H. Moore

Fall is here. Another year is coming to an end.

Summer’s finished, summer’s gone, winter’s round the bend.

Fall is piles of crunchy leaves, orange, gold, and red.

Fall is sweaters with long sleeves and blankets on the bed.

Fall is football, fall is pumpkins, fall’s where summer ends;

And fall is coming back to school, and seeing all my friends.

“Autumn” (1845)

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarkand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red Harvest Moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven’s o’er-hanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

“A Lyric of Autumn” (1904)

By William Stanley Braithwaite (1878-1962)

There is music in the meadows, in the air --

Autumn is here;

Skies are gray, but hearts are mellow,

Leaves are crimson, brown, and yellow;

Pines are soughing, birches stir,

And the Gypsy trail is fresh beneath the fir.

There is rhythm in the woods, and in the fields,

Nature yields:

And the harvest voices crying,

Blend with Autumn zephyrs sighing;

Tone and color, frost and fire,

Wings the nocturne Nature plays upon her lyre.

Until next time –

Rob :)