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#autumn – @tail-feathers on Tumblr
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Tail Feathers

@tail-feathers / tail-feathers.tumblr.com

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Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable. —Mary Oliver


Roderick O'Flaherty “Passages”, oil, 18x24″

#Roderick O'Flaherty#dogs#autumn
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💫 IT’s the Indian summer. The rising sun blazes through the misty air like a conflagration. A yellowish, smoky haze fills the atmosphere, and a filmy mist lies like a silver lining on the sky. The wind is soft and low. It wafts to us the odor of forest leaves, that hang wilted on the dripping branches, or drop into the stream. Their gorgeous tints are gone, as if the autumnal rains had washed them out. Orange, yellow and scarlet, all are changed to one melancholy russet hue. The birds, too, have taken wing, and have left their roofless dwellings. Not the whistle of a robin, not the twitter of an eavesdropping swallow, not the carol of one sweet, familiar voice. All gone. Only the dismal cawing of a crow, as he sits and curses that the harvest is over; or the chit-chat of an idle squirrel, the noisy denizen of a hollow tree, the mendicant friar of a large parish, the absolute monarch of a dozen acorns. 🐿
  • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
#Henry Wadsworth Longfellow#autumn#lit
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reblogged
english-idylls

September

 by Edith Holden

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tail-feathers

“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”

… George Eliot

#autumn
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Is not this a true autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature harmonize. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air, while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit. Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

⁃ George Eliot [Letter to Miss Lewis, Oct. 1, 1841]

#George Eliot#lit#autumn#birds
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A feeling in the air of change and departure. . .

‘To all appearances the summer’s pomp was still at fullest height, and although in the tilled acres green had given way to gold, though rowans were reddening, and the woods were dashed here and there with a tawny fierceness, yet light and warmth and colour were still present in undiminished measure, clean of any chilly premonitions of the passing year. But the constant chorus of the orchards and hedges had shrunk to a casual evensong from a few yet unwearied performers, and there was a feeling in the air of change and departure. Rat, ever observant of all winged movement, saw that it was taking daily a southing tendency; and even as he lay in bed at night he thought he could make out, passing in the darkness overhead, the beat and quiver of impatient pinions, obedient to the peremptory call.’

… The Wind in the Willows

#the wind in the willows#autumn#lit
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