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O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if the were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost–
For the grapes’ sake along the all.
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes’ sake, if the were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost–
For the grapes’ sake along the all.
Robert Frost
Image by Fir0002/Flagstaffotos.
A college boyfriend (who shall forever remain nameless) had a band for a while and celebrated in due course the greatness that is October. Songs were written, ballads performed, festive gatherings held- all in celebration of the ubiquitous fabulousness of fall. I seem to remember very bad pumpkin-related brews and lots of Birkenstocks.
It worketh upon me strangely, this Fall air, these scuttling clouds, the whirl of leaves.
As we settle in to an old, creaky house, replete with noisy wood floors and dark corners, I think we have the perfect setting for a magical season. Last weekend we spent Saturday in autumnal preparations, like mulching and battening and laying-by of stores. I’ve never felt so rodential.
Still on our (long and exhausting exhaustive) list of things to do are tasks such as buying room-size rugs (Allo, Ikea?) and weatherproofing the windows. Not sure how you weatherproof the windows, but the drafts wafting through the house are witness to the potential carnage of winter in an old house.
The handyman has been busy, mostly with cosmetic details like a couple of new handrails and painting the back porch (a rich autumnal chocolate-brown). Since we have a new furnace, I think he possibly believes we’ve done everything possible to conserve heat and energy. I’m looking into those energy-saving curtains, and considering space-heaters.
No, I’m not nesting, but the birds in their long Vs and the crispness of the air make me want to sing Verdi and twirl on the green outside my office. The urge to bake things with cinnamon, gooey things that need to be washed down with apple products, overtakes me regularly. I frequently spend minutes just breathing.
And don’t get me started on the mum displays at Home Depot.
So spill…are you as intoxicated with fall as I am? What are your preparations? Nesting much?
And you know how I feel about squash.
Living in Spain as a child, the native American squashes were hard to find. I remember pumpkins, but I am almost certain that they came from the American Air Force Base near the city. Had to keep up those crazy American customs.
In my twitterpated mind, Fall is the time for squash. Halve a large acorn squash and bake it with butter and brown sugar. Slice large chunks of pumpkin and salt them down, then bake. Pumpkin bread, zucchini, even spaghetti squash can be used in interesting ways.
So imagine my dismay when my lovely Colombian husband turns his nose up to squash! It began innocently enough- no sweet potato drenched with butter and cinnamon sugar at a dinner with my parents. But it progressed to outright disdain when confronted with our Halloween pumpkins from last year, after the festivities were over, that I proposed we slice and boil for pumpkin puree. The fact that he nearly chopped his finger off while slicing pumpkin rind could perhaps have contributed. Some.
When I lived in Peru, various squashes found their way into my cuisine. Zapallo was the common name for any of them, and was usually served as a pureed soup, deliciously warm and filling for the Andean temperatures. I am even assured by Wiki that there is some use of squash in Colombia, but it’s vague, and certainly not prepared like its North American counterpart.
What’s your take on squash? Are there cultural foods you have trouble integrating into your family’s cuisine?
(While driving with the windows down, 4-year-old and 5-month-old in back seat).
St. Adelaide the Righteous: Mom, I love Fall.
Me: Yeah, it’s my favorite, too.
St. A: It’s so…frontier.
Me: “Frontier”?? What does that mean?
St. A: Like….nice. Or cool.
Me: Where did you hear that word?
St. A: I dunno. I just had it up in my brain.
I have been so distracted by the weather lately that it’s been hard to focus on anything. This is my brain’s internal dialogue usually:
Dress kids… Prayer…Make coffee…Do Grades… Car needs oil change… Kiss husband… Dinner plans… Laundry… Project Runway… Church… Time for school…Checkups… (etc.)
This is my brain on Fall.
FAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!!!! LeavesLeavesLeavesWINDWHOOOOOSHHHHYummyyummyPUMPKIIIINNNS!SweaterbabytightsscarvesMOTHBALLScinnamonnutmegLEAVESLEAVESLEAVESwhooooooooshhhhhhhSQUASHbaby yeahhhhhhhhhPumpkin PIIIIIEEEEyummyyummyApplesWINDleavesleavesleavesWHOOOOOOSHHHHHH
So it’s been a little hard to concentrate. Does anyone else get this way about a specific time of year, or is it just me?
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