Fall

Tonight as I soaked in the light of a September evening the words of one of my favorite poems came to me:

Vagabond Song

by Bliss Carman

There is something in October that is native to my blood-

Touch of manner, hint of mood;

And my heart is like a rhyme,

With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry

Of bugles going by.

And my lonely spirit thrills

To see the frosty asters like mist upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;

We must rise and follow her,

When from each hill of flame

She calls and calls each vagabond by name.

Doesn't that just make you want to crunch leaves under your feet and hug the autumn blue sky? I want cable knit sweaters and spiced cider and sensible brown leather shoes when I read that poem.

Autumn does things to me. It is my spring. I feel I am comming alive - budding and blossoming all at once.

Happy Autumn!

~Bethany

/>