After the early December rains when the sun reappears at midday, the persimmon tree in our garden looks the most glorious.
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After the early December rains when the sun reappears at midday, the persimmon tree in our garden looks the most glorious.
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No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one autumnal face.
~ John Donne
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With the appearance of Fall and the approach of Winter come a waning of daylight hours. Metaphorically, poets and writers have often used these seasons to describe middle and late stages, be they of gardens or human lives.
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Once more the liberal year laughs out
O’er richer stores than gems or gold:
Once more with harvest song and shout
Is nature’s boldest triumph told.
~ John Greenleaf Whittier
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Perhaps it’s because I was born in November, a time Black Elk spoke of as “The Moon of Falling Leaves,” that image-rich autumn is my favorite season.
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Just about the time the first liquid amber leaves begin to their change color is Apple Season. The sun has warmed and kissed the fruit long enough to make it blush a deep rose, gold, or yellow. Throughout the world, communities herald the apple harvest and families gather to celebrate this glorious moment by transforming apples into cider, preserves, pies, and other scrumptious delicacies.
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