I love the fall – despite the fact that it is the harbinger of winter. The cemetery on Saturday was ablaze with eye-warming reds and yellows. Made me think of poetry and so I went looking and found this lovely little poem by Emily Dickinson.
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
This Tuesday is the last one for hill-training (10 times up and down that ever steeper hill) and, the week after, many of us are doing the Scotia virtual relay – after which we will have some lovely new ‘trinkets’ to wear around our necks.
Stay safe and sane, wear your masks, wash those hands and maintain distance as you walk your distance!