Autumn

Thoughts don't usually turn to Autumn in the first week of September; I usually try to save that for November if possible!

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But the summer has been poor again, and there is litle sign yet of any late Indian burst of warmth. So I'm left to think that autumn is all but upon us and I am reminded of the Keats poem To Autumn - two extracts as follows.

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''.....and now with treble soft

The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;

And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.''

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''Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find

Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,

Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;

Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,

Drows'd with the fume of poppies.''

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I think that 'Thee' refers to a personified Autumn. The poem is saying that it's a time of ripeness and plenty, with fruits like apple and hazel nut becoming plump and sweet.

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When the weather is more bracing I will be out walking with Lynne, and I expect our enjoyment of the countryside in its Autumn livery will make the passing of a disappointing summer seem less bothersome.

River Deben, near Waldringfield