A Fall Poem
More fall walks in the woods this week have gotten me thinking about one of my favorite fall poems (that’s the downside - or the upside - depending on how you look at it - of walking in the woods with me. I tend to randomly quote lines of poetry when inspired by the beauty of nature or a particular season. Or when, for no particular reason, I’m just feeling poetic).
ANYway, I thought I’d share it with you - it really is entirely reciteable anytime you’re gazing at the beauty of fall in the NW - the leaves of the trees on Mt Scott, the pumpkins on Suavie’s Island, the apples in Hood River….whatever.
A Vagabond Song
by Bliss Carman
There is something in the autum that is native to my blood - touch of manner, hint of mood; and my heart is like a rhyme, with the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.
The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills to see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills.
There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; we must rise and follow her, when from every hill of flame she calls and calls each vagabond by name.