Sunday, 14 October 2007

Autumn

Autumn Rose has tagged me about Autumn, so here is my reply:

When does Autumn begin for you?
Michaelmas or less romantically the first time you have to use the car de-mister.

What is your favorite aspect of Autumn?
Colours, smells and the heartbreaking beauty of misty sunrises over the river Severn.

What is your favorite Autumn memory?
Gardening with my Dad as a kid.

What do you like to drink in the Autumn?
Tea, always, though I get a taste for Lapsang Suchong in Autumn.

What’s your favorite Autumn food?
Anything involving mutton. Anything involving apples and custard. Anything involving suet.

What is Autumn weather like where you live?
Musty, colourful and damp.

What color is Autumn?
Conker brown or is that Carmelite brown, those two favourite Theresas feature strongly in October!?

What does Autumn smell like?
Earth, mulching leaves, fire, smoke, fireworks, cooking, baking….

Christmas shopping in Autumn?
I hate shopping, why spoil a good Autumn.

If you could go anywhere in the Autumn, where would you go?
I'd be right here. It's magic!

Do you have a favorite Autumn chore?
No, but I do enjoy being in the garden at this time of year, though it's not the same since creosote got banned. Foraging for sweet chestnuts is good too, though this year the crop is woeful.

What is your least favorite thing about Autumn?
Kicking through the Autumn leaves and landing on a concealed dog turd.

What is your favorite Autumn holiday?
Do I have a choice?

What’s your favorite kind of pie?
Steak and ale with a suet crust.

Do you have a favorite Autumn book?
It is Winnie the Pooh time.

How about a favorite Autumn poem?
Digging by Edward Thomas

To-day I think
Only with scents,- scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot's seed,
And the square mustard field;

Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the root of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;

The smoke's smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth,
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of Autumn mirth.

1 comment:

AutumnRose said...

What a wonderful poem!

I really enjoyed reading this :¬)

I love Autumn!