Autumn Analogies

Spring in reverse

When summer ends

When winter is born

Season of stillness

Season of pumpkins

Full of leave taking

The season of change

The season of memory

A single leaf falling

Spring turned antique

Nature’s calm twilight

The evening of seasons

The hush before winter

The season of the soul

The time for the harvest

When nature falls asleep

When summer’s work is over

That welcome sigh of summer

When summer has passed away

A time of harvest and plenty

When the leaves begin to turn

The time of the falling leaves

A time to think of all the past

The ending of a quiet summer day

Season of beauty, joy and gladness

The closing up of a beautiful life

Time of sunshine, breeze and shower

Woolly jumpers, thick socks, scarves

When tiny buds are being made on trees

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

A time of harvest, of gathering together

The quiet completion of spring and summer

The passing away of the bright summer glory

A second spring when every leaf is a flower

The last warm sunny days before rain and wind

Thicker socks, warmer coats, an extra blanket

A season followed by looking forward to spring

When the world turns from one thig to another

When the world is poised at the door of winter

A reminder of the dreamlike beauties of the earth

For nature, a time of sowing, of scattering abroad

Revealer of the golden gem of beauty and sweetness

When the world reveals itself in its true dimensions

A classical music - when it begins, the gravity disappears

When the soul drinks in fully the glory and beauty of nature

A reminder that while leaves die and fall, there will always be spring

The mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits

That season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness

The dim shadow that clusters about the sweet, precious things that God has created in the realm of nature

When everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale

That season which has drawn from every poet worthy of being read some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling