580. Once more on our morning walk we tread upon carpets of gold and crimson, of brown and bronze, woven by the winds… ~John Burroughs

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Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
~Alfred Lord Tennyson

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With every north wind that blows the landscape decomposes more and more, and the air grows a little wilder with falling leaves. After each assault layer upon layer of the leafy insulation blankets the lawn and beds in more warmth to protect them from coming winter’s icy blasts. Above, the branches, if not already bare, are now dotted with only a smattering of leaves. They, the ones too tenacious to let go so far, cannot hold on much longer though because the winter solstice will be upon us in less than a week. These brisk northerly winds have also taken a toll on the once verdant and supple, ornamental grasses. Many of them have begun drying out and taking on a shabby, tattered look, but among the shades of brown, remain a few tinged with glorious color. Autumn may be beset with more gray than sunny days and quelling blows night after night, but some continue to hold a measure of winsome smiles and “honey’d leavings.” And as the lusty song of life plays on, earth yet murmurs, “come play again with me,” a call, way, way too alluring for me to ignore.

The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever. ~Isaiah 40:8   ✝

27 thoughts on “580. Once more on our morning walk we tread upon carpets of gold and crimson, of brown and bronze, woven by the winds… ~John Burroughs”

    • It was windy the day I took the photos of those grasses and so I was worried that I wouldn’t get a good one. As it turned out I was well-pleased with this one. Thank you for the kudos, Charlie! Hugs, N ❤

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  3. Lovely photo and poem by Tennyson, complimented by your lovely phrases like the honey’d leavings! I can almost feel the artic air or maybe that’s due to the temps dropping 25′ here with wind and blustery temps. 🙂

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    • Brrrrrrrr, Brad. That’s a little too cold for me. We’ve only been down that low one time so far this year, but with winter right around the corner, there will be more soon. Stay warm!
      I’m glad you enjoyed the photos and post. Hugs, N ❤

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  6. even in the swaying of tattered grass, much like ourselves…blown, tattered and looking a bit worse for the wear, we look expectantly to what will be–as we know the wind brings the whispers of a hopeful tomorrow—
    blessings and love—Julie

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  11. The eternal procession of life and death,and then, our souls seek rebirth … Love the procession of seasons and how nature hibernates and patiently waits for the warmth and the light to come back again and revive her … Timely post dear Natalie ! Love the photo of the flexible wheat swaying to the tempo of the winds !!! Hugs & kisses,
    Doda ¸.•♥•.¸ 🙂

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