“i can’t believe it’s november already, it feels like halloween was just yesterday.”
-author unknown
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photo credit: pinterest
“Don’t you imagine the leaves dream now how comfortable it will be to touch the earth instead of the nothingness of the air and the endless freshets of wind? And don’t you think the trees, especially those with mossy hollows, are beginning to look for the birds that will come – six, a dozen – to sleep inside their bodies? And don’t you hear the goldenrod whispering goodbye, the everlasting being crowned with the first tuffets of snow? The pond stiffens and the white field over which the fox runs so quickly brings out its long blue shadows. The wind wags its many tails. And in the evening the piled firewood shifts a little, longing to be on its way.”
~Mary Oliver, “Song for Autumn”
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art credit: willowday flower project by gina, stockholm
here we find ourselves in september again, along with lots of babies!
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september is by far the most popular month to be born. it isn’t even a close race. september has 9 out of 10 of the most popular birth dates, with september 9th being the most popular date of all. using my holiday math formula, it’s easy to find a clear correlation between the end of the old year through the ringing in of the new year, and the volume of early fall arrivals.
1 january new year’s eve party = 1 to 1,000,000 september babies
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“my favourite poem is the one that starts ‘thirty days hath september’ because it actually tells you something.” -groucho marx
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art credit: mary evans
my favorite season – fall has arrived
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Fall Song
Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,
the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back
from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere
except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle
of unobservable mysteries – roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This
I try to remember when time’s measure
painfully chafes, for instance when Autumn
flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay – how everything lives, shifting
from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.
~ Mary Oliver ~
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image credit: Lumber Jane, Madame Cupcake@etsy