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Duchess Autumn

Alone in her castle sits tall Duchess Autumn.
She is silent and watchful and listening well.
She has listened as corn stalks grew up to the heavens,
She has heard all the stories King Summer could tell.

Yes, a thousand new stories King Summer has woven;
He’s draped the plant people in clothing of green
But now his green stories have faded to silence,
His shoulders hang heavy; he’ll soon not be seen.

Caldendula

Up from her throne the tall Duchess arises,
Her burgundy cloak ripples down to the floor.
As she opens her hand, tossing off gentle breezes,
Their whispers and laughter roll right out the door.

At first it’s only the winds that whisper
But soon it is called from beast to bird.
At a single touch, green fades to an echo
Yes, Duchess Autumn is in the wood. . .

With the basket

The wheat turns to amber and pumpkins are ripened,
Red apples hang low on the full laden boughs
The corn turns to golden and purple grapes glisten
Acorn and nut tumble down to the ground.

The Duchess now raises her arms to the heavens
And calls the sun down to an early night’s rest.
King Summer looks back to the sound of her coming
And with slow, heavy footsteps, fades into the dusk. . .

Dutchess Autumn

At the first light of morning, the Duchess moves onward.
Smoothly the breezes roll right off her hand.
The grasses bend low and the lake water ripples
As Duchess Autumn sends forth her command.

On hillsides and orchards, on fields and in gardens,
The people with sickle and scythe gather round.
They bring in their harvest to store for the winter,
While squirrels are gathering nuts from the ground. . .

Flower Picker

Alone in the evening, the Duchess stands silent.
She watches the glittering stars in the sky
In the chill of the evening the creatures are sleeping,
The time for their gathering soon will pass by.

At first it’s only the winds that whisper
But soon it is called from beast to bird.
At a single touch, green fades to an echo
Yes, Duchess Autumn is in the wood. . .

~Enki Grade One


Summer is not long now and we are anticipating Fall in that way that can only happen when we start to see the first glimpses of change. It is all change, really, but those first golden leaves and the falling blooms on the Rose of Sharon signal something new on the wind.  We've had a taste of cooler weather, now and then, when the humidity blows away, and the pumpkins are beginning to turn on the vines.  It is like clockwork, these things we do.  When I look back over this blog, I see time and again that I do the same things, take the same day trips, on nearly the same days each year.  Nothing has to be said, there is no searching back through the archives--the places just make their quiet calls and we go. 

Comments

( 2 trees — Plant a Forest )
blakdove
Aug. 7th, 2015 04:13 am (UTC)
Is Willow dressed in play silks?

Ah, autumn. Can't come soon enough.
impossibleway
Aug. 7th, 2015 09:43 am (UTC)
She is. She makes the most elaborate costumes with them.
( 2 trees — Plant a Forest )

A Blessed Wilderness

It was just like being in heaven, being in there. In those days there was no road. The park was all a blessed wilderness. I have often thought what a wonderful people we would have been if we had wanted to keep it that way.

~Adolph Murie, biologist, on Denali


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© impossibleway

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