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
(The Complete Poems of Emily Jane Brontë)
When Nature made the bluebird she wished to propitiate both the sky and the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and the hue of the other on his breast, and ordained that his appearance in spring should denote that the strife and war between these two elements was at an end. He is the peace-harbinger; in him the celestial and terrestrial strike hands and are fast friends. He means the furrow and he means the warmth; he means all the soft, wooing influences of the spring on the one hand, and the retreating footsteps of winter on the other.
~ John Burroughs
(Wake-Robin)
I am often at a loss for words these days, but a couple of hours of birdwatching with a new friend was a welcome interlude in the grieving process.
The beauty, variety, and unexpected behaviors of birds can inspire feelings of joy, awe, and wonder, which can be a powerful counterbalance to grief.
~ AI
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life. There is a time of sprouting, a time of growth, and a time of harvest, and all are part of the greater whole. There comes the time now to savor the harvest, to pause and know another year not yet brought to full finality.
~ Hal Borland
(Sundial of the Seasons)
When the Spring is in the offing,
And the early birds are freezing,
When one-half the folks are coughing,
And the other half are sneezing;
When the sun is getting higher,
Though the fact’s hard to remember;
And you huddle by the fire
Twice as cold as in December;
Life and all its cares would crush us,
Floor us in a brace of shakes,
If it weren’t for the luscious
Maple syrup on the cakes.
But a fellow keeps postponing
Day by day his preparation
For the final telephoning
For old Charon’s transportation.
Though he knows the Spring is lying
And his grippe is undiminished,
Still he does put off his dying
Till that can of syrup’s finished.
Then, at last, the north winds waver,
And the sleeping Spring awakes;
But we know the true lifesaver
Was the syrup on the cakes!
~ Walter G. Doty
(The Christian Advocate, March 22, 1917)
At the Autumn Equinox, as with the spring, we take this moment of equal day and night to focus on a point of balance. In the mellowness of early autumn, we can quietly observe this brief stillness. There is a certain relief in letting go of the hectic growth of summer. With the slowing that autumn brings comes a certain restfulness and acceptance.
~ Maria Ede-Weaving
(The Essential Book of Druidry: Connect with the Spirit of Nature)
At the Spring Equinox, nature is stretching awake and we, too, surface from our winter stillness, driven on by the growing light and warmth of the sun. Alban Eilir is the dawn of the year. It brings with it a sense of hope and the fresh possibilities of a new day. We see everywhere the vibrant spirit of the Earth, whose irrepressible life bursts forth in the opening of buds, the surfacing of shoots, and the golden blossoming of primrose, daffodil, broom and forsythia. All life must rise up from the dark soil and break out of the safety of womb and egg.
~ Maria Ede-Weaving
(The Essential Book of Druidry: Connect with the Spirit of Nature)
Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love — that makes life and nature harmonize. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one’s very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
~ George Eliot
(Letter to Maria Lewis, October 1, 1841)
~ autumn equinox ~
(2:49 am eastern time zone)
Oh, spring is surely coming,
Her couriers fill the air;
Each morn are new arrivals,
Each night her ways prepare;
I scent her fragrant garments,
Her foot is on the stair.
~ John Burroughs
(Bird & Bough)
~ spring equinox ~
(5:24 pm eastern time zone)