There is a time in the last few days of summer when the ripeness of autumn fills the air.“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.By all these lovely tokens September days are here, With summer's best of weather and autumn's best of cheer.Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning.Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable. The hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.Autmn is spring time in reverse.
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky.Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.Change is a measure of time and, in the autumn, time seems speeded up. What was is not and never again will be; what is is change.There is a harmony in autumn, and a luster in its sky, which through the summer is not heard or seen, as if it could not be, as if it had not been!Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.In autumn, nature whispers of transience. Leaves fall like psalms of letting go. The earth rests, and in the silence, the wisdom of change resounds. May autumn teach us that farewell is also a promise of new life.
Autumn is like a master of transformation. Trees become color palettes, and the wind conducts the grand orchestra of falling leaves. Pumpkins become VIP guests on every porch, and scarves turn into fashion accessories. Fall, the season of stylish leaf-falling!
Autumn paints the world in warm hues. Leaves dance in the wind, a farewell from nature. The air smells of earth and transience. In autumn, the melancholy of change is reflected, yet in every falling leaf, the hope for a new spring slumbers.
Autumn whispers, paints the land,
A palette passed from hand to hand.
Leaves dance, a gentle sound,
A farewell song, an autumn round.
The sun kisses in golden light,
Autumn, a poet, a poem so bright.
The air carries a touch of melancholy,
In the heart, sweet harmony.
