It’s New England and late fall, that practically requires a mention of Robert Frost. So at risk of sounding terribly traditional, here is one of my favorite poems for the season.
My November Guest
My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
As 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 her so,
And they are better for her praise.
(Robert Frost, A Boy’s Will, 1915)
I was both pleased and amused to find a like minded person when I went searching for pieces to assemble an etsy treasury on this poem. Someone else had gotten there first and come up with a marvelous collection of pieces.
For another moment of seasonal show-and-tell, I wanted to share a photographer that I’ve had the pleasure of watching for quite awhile. My favorite images are her fungi, she’s quite the connoisseur. But her Autumn Path seemed most appropriate to accompany Frost, wrong continent though it may be.
She takes wonderful bird and animal photographs that often brighten my day. Sometimes literally, she’s had a rash of gorgeously colored birds recently. Though the crabby owls, like this guy at the California Raptor Center will probably always be my favorites… And sometimes I get to learn something new about about unusual species when I ask possibly silly questions. (She’s also very patient.)