from T. S.

"Since golden October declined into sombre November

And the apples were gathered and stored, and the land became brown sharp points of death in a waste of water and mud."

~ T. S. Eliot ~   

from Ernest

"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen.

~ Ernest Hemingway ~

A Moveable Feast

from George

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking successive autumns.

~ George Eliot ~