Today has been unseasonally mild, but we have been faithfully promised that Autumn will be resuming business as usual by the weekend, with temperatures by day more in keeping with the average and some frosty evenings just around the corner.
The leaves are falling in earnest, in the moderately windy conditions, but those remaining steadfastly on the trees are a riot of Autumnal reds and golds. The rolling hills and woodlands on the Somerset/Wiltshire border, were ablaze with colour as I drove home this afternoon, enhanced by the sun as it dipped lower and dimmed into dusk. All too soon the trees will stand barren and bare, branches and twigs poking up into a wintry sky.
It is at times like this, that I appreciate the wonders that surround me, which I take for granted in my day to day journey through life.
My thoughts often turn poetic, in my eagerness to express my simple thoughts and feelings.
My words for Wednesday this week are just a couple of seasonal poems from English authors, that sum up my feelings in a way I am unable to express in words. I have not selected particularly long or flowery verse, but a succinct summing up of the day as I viewed it:

AUTUMN LEAVES by Charles Dickens (English, 1812-1870)
AUTUMN leaves, autumn leaves
Lie strewn around me here,
Autumn leaves, autumn leaves,
How sad, how cold, how drear!
How like the hopes of childhood’s day,
Thick clust’ring on the bough!
How like those hopes in their decay—
How faded are they now!
Withered leaves, withered leaves,
That fly before the gale;
Withered leaves, withered leaves,
Ye tell a mournful tale
Of love once true, and friends once kind,
And happy moments fled:
Dispersed by every breath of wind,
Forgotten, changed, or dead.
———–
THE AUTUMN ROBIN by John Clare (English,1793-1864)
Sweet little bird in russet coat,
The livery of the closing year,
I love thy lonely plaintive note
And tiny whispering song to hear,
While on the stile or garden seat
I sit to watch the falling leaves,
The song thy little joys repeat
My loneliness relieves.