The Winter Solstice marks the first day of winter on December 22nd, so I figured I’d post some last thoughts about Fall in the form of quotes and poems (some of which are truncated, apologies). I added a few pictures I took in November during a walk with my father through Seattle’s Arboretum. And to start–a picture of me enjoying the dying of the light. I love the colors of greens, golds, bronzes, purples, grays and sienna…..it seems that I can only truly enjoy the sun in Fall and Winter!

My sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Robert Frost
My November Guest
Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower.
Albert Camus

Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
Emily Bronte

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.
George Eliot
No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.
John Donne
Elegy IX–The Autumnal.

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-eves 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.
John Keats
Ode to Autumn.

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.
Nathaniel Hawthorne

On fields o’er which the reaper’s hand has pass’d
Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,
My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind
And of such fineness as October airs,
There after harvest could I glean my life
A richer harvest reaping without toil,
And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will
In subtler webs than finest summer haze.
Henry David Thoreau
Introit by Charles Bidwell
Now is the darkest and longest night of the year.
Now is the time of rest and restoration.
Now is the time to praise the darkness.
on Earth and
within our bodies and
in our life cycles.
In balance with the light,
there is daily night
and it is blessing and right.
Now is the darkest and longest night of the year.
Now is the time of rest and restoration.
Now is the time to praise the darkness.

AY, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath! When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf,
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief
And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay
In the gay woods and in the golden air,
Like to a good old age released from care,
Journeying, in long serenity, away.
In such a bright, late quiet, would that I
Might wear out life like thee, ‘mid bowers and brooks
And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks,
And music of kind voices ever nigh;
And when my last sand twinkled in the glass,
Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass.
William Cullen Bryant
October
Solstice by Reverend Gary Kowalski
Night has its own kind of beauty, different than the beauty of day.
Night is a time of sleep and dreams and inward visions.
A time of pause within activity.
Darkness is an invitation to imagining and storytelling,
And to using ears instead of eyes to listen to the world in its stillness.
Darkness is the den of life in germination,
And darkness is the portal of death that opens to eternity:
The mystery of all time past and endless time to come.
At the center of our being
there is light and there is darkness,
the known and the unknown,
the named and the nameless,
the finite and the infinite.
Light and dark are different,
but not opposed to each other.
Like a mother and father, they are friends with one another, and with us.
