Thanks giving…

Cooler evenings, sweeter breezes, a kinder sun… autumn arrives. My favorite season. September and October always quicken my heart and fill me with energy – plans for new projects, renewed interest in old ones.

 

For most of my life, autumn meant the return to the classroom, first as student for 18 years, and then for 30 years as public school  teacher. With fall’s refreshing weather came new students and classes, new challenges and problems to solve.  I associate fall with new names, new skills and new facts, new books and new challenges.

I love the rush and bustle that seems to bloom in autumn like ripe apples – crisp, juicy and slightly tart.  Summer travels seem merely a warm up for the real adventure and journey that fall sets before me. Can I find my way? Will I understand what I’m asked to do? 

I look out at the garden and know this is the perfect time to listen to the world  – the rustling leaves and bubbling water, the perfect time to watch the sunlight dapple the grass, to feel the cool, autumn air.

An aura of  energy and possibility seems to quicken my spirits in the fall. There’s not a moment to waste, there’s so much to learn and accomplish.

Recently, I came upon a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar, “Merry Autumn.”  The poem’s folksy tone matches my own response to fall’s arrival.   Dunbar’s celebration is joyous and affirming.  Here are the last stanzas…

Don’t talk to me of solemn days
In autumn’s time of splendor,
Because the sun shows fewer rays,
And these grow slant and slender.

Why, it’s the climax of the year,—
The highest time of living!—
Till naturally its bursting cheer
Just melts into Thanksgiving.

And here is the entire poem…

Merry Autumn by Paul Laurence Dunbar

It’s all a farce,—these tales they tell
About the breezes sighing,
And moans astir o’er field and dell,
Because the year is dying.
Such principles are most absurd,—
I care not who first taught ’em;
There’s nothing known to beast or bird
To make a solemn autumn.
 
In solemn times, when grief holds sway
With countenance distressing,
You’ll note the more of black and gray
Will then be used in dressing.
 
Now purple tints are all around;
The sky is blue and mellow;
And e’en the grasses turn the ground
From modest green to yellow.
 
The seed burs all with laughter crack
On featherweed and jimson;
And leaves that should be dressed in black
Are all decked out in crimson.
 
A butterfly goes winging by;
A singing bird comes after;
And Nature, all from earth to sky,
Is bubbling o’er with laughter.
 
The ripples wimple on the rills,
Like sparkling little lasses;
The sunlight runs along the hills,
And laughs among the grasses.
 
The earth is just so full of fun
It really can’t contain it;
And streams of mirth so freely run
The heavens seem to rain it.
 
Don’t talk to me of solemn days
In autumn’s time of splendor,
Because the sun shows fewer rays,
And these grow slant and slender.
 
Why, it’s the climax of the year,—
The highest time of living!—
Till naturally its bursting cheer
Just melts into thanksgiving.
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About J. F. Booth

I am a writer and educator.
This entry was posted in Life Lessons, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Thanks giving…

  1. Anonymous says:

    It is only within the past few years that I have eased somewhat my aversion to Fall. Your insights are most welcome!

  2. Barbara says:

    Kim loves the poem — me too, Autumn does burst with color and as we travel north the hold of cool nights and bright blue days are well in the season’s grasp. Yet,while I do make an effort to take in this fullness, my thoughts are not far from the grasshopper who continues his play without preparing for what inevitably brings his demise. Unless, of course, he’s a smart one who heads south:) lol

  3. Aurelia says:

    Lovely evocation – so similar to my own experience and sensations. Thank you!

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