The Heart of Autumn

“SUMMER AND AUTUMN fuse into each other imperceptibly, the point of fusion lost in some period of September humidity, in a mild wonder of too-soft days.  Autumns comes slowly, and having come slowly, goes on slowly, for a long time, even as far on as December.  In a country of many trees, such as this is, where one kind of tree turn its colours while another holds them fast and where some trees are stripped while others are summered with leaf, it is never easy to make the mark between season and season.  Autumn slips a finger into August, but Spring has a revenge in December.  Winter blows on September, but October still remains, with May and June, the loveliest month of the English year, a kind of second spring, uncertain but exhilarating, sunny and snowy, hot and frosty, bright and dark by turns, a sort of Autumnal April.”

Through the Woods

H. E. Bates


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