Autumn

I know so many people who comment on how much they like autumn.  It is my favorite time of year. Although I love the renewal of spring, I love the calmness and settling of autumn.  I love the crisping of air after the oppressive heat of summer.  I like the smells of harvest, the harvest moon. I love the autumn holidays:  Halloween, Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving. 

Autumn has some problems:  ragweed and other pollen carriers, cotton fibers in the air from ginning, sometimes dust blown by the wind. For those of us with sinus problems and sensitivity to allergens, this time of year can cause sinus infections, bronchial infections, and other symptoms such as watery eyes.   But all of that is manageable.

Autumn just has a mystery, a mystique and draw.  I believe Bliss Carmen said it best:

A Vagabond Song

By Bliss Carman

1861-1929

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There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood --
Touch of manner, hint of mood;
And my heart is like a rhyme,
With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry
Of bugles going by.
And my lonely spirit thrills
To see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.

There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir;
We must rise and follow her,
When from every hill of flame
She calls and calls each vagabond by name.