The Leaves Speak Bliss

The summer heat lingers on the first day of autumn.

The crisp and cooler days will come. The leaves will turn and fall.

Until then, I’ll wait. I’ll look for the golden leaves, the red and orange ones too.

Fall, Leaves, Fall

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

Emily Brontë

Photo by Brady Griffith