Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me,
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
Emily Brontë (1818–48)

Hail, old October, bright and chill,
First freedman from the summer sun!
Spice high the bowl, and drink your fill!
Thank heaven, at last the summer’s done!
Thomas Constable (1812–81)

©2010 Jan Boults Photography
"Autumn Light"
"Grasses in Autumn"

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