Ode to Autumn


Ah Autumn, welcome back. How I have missed you. I feel as though I am the only person in the U.K who sighed at the sight and feel of our recent high temperatures and summer sun in my beloved Autumn.
Don’t get me wrong I like long warm summer days, lounging outside our tent, drinking long cool drinks and sharing ice lollies with my girls,  the BBQ‘s with good friends and family are warm, sticky and bright.
 I guess what I dislike is having to get my summer clothes out that mean getting my legs out and avoiding the skinny girls in their flattering maxi dresses whilst I look like I am wearing our tent!
I like Spring with its beautiful sparkling freshness, it carries a feeling of awakening and being alive. 
Winter I love almost as much as Autumn…almost. Winter is crisp and snowing and dark, but in a cosy traditional coca-cola Christmas scene kind of way.
But, Autumn, ah Autumn is colourful. It starts to get cold, but not too cold that you can’t go out wrapped up in coats and scarves and hats. Kicking through crispy fallen leaves. Hunting for conkers, acorns and pine cones all the while munching blackberries found hidden under the hedges.
Autumn is a time for battening down the hatches, slowing down the pace of life and preparing for winter, full of anticipation and celebration; Halloween, bonfire night and Yule tide preparations. 
Did I mention those colours?

Oh the colours

Oh Mother Earths natural palate…Oranges, browns, yellows, a scatter of greens and deep reds. No matter how I feel those colours scattered across our beautiful earth never fail to warm me and make me thankful and appreciate how lucky we are to experience this year after year.

I am going to leave you with my all time favorite poet, John Keats and the poem that rings in my ears all through this season:
An Ode to Autumn
 Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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3 thoughts on “Ode to Autumn

  1. Autumn happens to be my favourite month…great piece and im very interested in the new pagan path you have encountered. Indeed paganism offers a brand new perspective on writing. I have written several odes and poems on Celtic goddesses.

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