Happy First Day of Fall

[Anonymous No.19096220]

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.

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 cyder-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.

[Anonymous No.19096511]

I do love the harvest season, just stole my first apples of the season, picrel. Apples are at their best when they are blushing, they have the crispness of full ripeness with the tartness of the green apple.

t. apple thief

[Anonymous No.19097479]

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stained
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou mayst rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

"The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust'ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather'd clouds strew flowers round her head.

"The spirits of the air live on the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees."
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat;
Then rose, girded himself, and o'er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

--William Blake

[Anonymouṡ No.19097533]

"AS IMPERCEPTIBLY AS GRIEF"

As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away —
Too imperceptible, at last
To seem like Perfidy —

A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon —

The Dusk drew earlier in —
The Morning foreign shone —
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace
As Guest that would be gone —

And thus without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful

— Emily Dickinson

[Anonymous No.19097586]

I am monitoring this thread.

[Anonymous No.19097594]

>>19096511
You want to act like a fuckin moolinyan, we'll send you to first day of fall school

[Anonymous No.19098803]

>>19097479
>Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

[Anonymous No.19098961]

cute thread op

[Anonymous No.19100271]

I've always thought "Young Goodman Brown" by Nathaniel Hawthorne was a pretty fall-ish story, since it takes place in the woods and it deals with spooky shit.

http://www.columbia.edu/itc/english/f1124y-001/resources/Young_Goodman_Brown.pdf

Really, a lot of Hawthorne's short stories feel very autumnal to me.

[Anonymous No.19100357]

For me? It's Winesburg, Ohio

[Anonymous No.19100750]

>>19097594
It is part of life in the upper midwest and expected, apple trees are everywhere here and almost everyone who has apple trees has more apples than they know what to do with. The few times I have been caught I was told I was welcome to take more and I became friendly with the folks. One person has given me the ok to harvest their entire crop because they don't have the time and only have the trees because they inherited them when they bought the house, every fall I make a big batch of apple butter from their apples and give them a few jars. In these parts we were all apple thieves when we were young and most of us become children again and steal a couple apples at least once a year. It is probably different in the suburbs of the big cities, but in these parts you just smile and think fondly upon your apple thieving youth when you see that 70 year old man dart into your yard to snag a couple apples. An apple tree heavy with ripe fruit brings the child out in us all.

[Anonymous No.19101260]

>>19100357
What about it makes you think fall? Do you find fall depressing? Great book.