An avenue of beech trees - a deserted park on an early November day
The stillness of Samhain seeps into the month of November. Late afternoon all too soon gives way to darkness and some days there doesn't seem to be much light at all. Not quite winter, more a sense of everything in abeyance, waiting - for the gales that will inevitably arrive later in the month to strip the trees bare. Nature continually reminds us of the transience of all things.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day
Nothing gold can stay
Robert Frost (1916)
No sun - no moon !
No morn - no noon -
No dawn - no dusk - no proper time of day
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthy ease,
No comfortable feel to any member -
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees
No fruit, no flowers, no leaves, no birds !
Thomas Hood (1789 - 1845)
For a friend out there who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and doesn't do well at this time of year - you know who you are, thanks for the poem and I wish you light.