Autumn is not really a distinct season in India. All my images of autumn come from my reading. To me no one described autumn better than John Keats in his poem ‘To Autumn‘. But then I’ve always been partial to Keats.
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 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.
His poem dwells on three aspects of autumn – growth, maturity and finally approaching death. So much like the cycle of life. We grow and blossom, mature and then get ready for the ultimate leveler – death. To me autumn is all about celebrating life and love and taking the time to focus on our most prized relationships.
Today, when I think about the word ‘autumn’, I’m not sure why I get an image of my grandparents. I can recall them singing a song called ‘Silver Threads Among The Gold’. This image doesn’t fill me with sadness, although they have passed on. Instead, it makes me want to treasure my relationship with my husband. It makes me want to be more focused on our love and to celebrate our lives together and as individuals. I know I’m getting carried away, but that’s what memories do to us. That’s what examples of love and caring do.
Here’s to autumn – a season of celebration, of gratitude for the abundance we have, a season to treasure love!
What does autumn mean to you?
Would you like to take part in #MondayMusings?
Here’s how it works:
- Write a post sharing your thoughts with us – happy, sad, philosophical, ‘silly’ even. Make it as personal as possible.
- Use the hashtag #MondayMusings.
- Add your link to the linky below
- Use our #MondayMusings badge to encourage other bloggers join in too.
- Visit and comment on the posts of other bloggers linked here.
- Share the love.
Image Credits: Shutterstock