To Autumn

“Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? Think not of them, thou hast thy music too.”

_John Keats (1795-1821), From the poem, “To Autumn”

It has been such a delight to live and work around the vast plains and prairies of the Dakotas, Montana, and Illinois (The Prairie state) during this autumn season of my life.

Autumn is a wonderful season in many ways. Acres of sunflowers smiling at you, fields of grain waving in the wind, and miles of cornfields saluting tall and proud.

And back home in my beloved South Carolina – the rolling hills forested with Joseph’s many-colored robe and the smell of apple cider.

Of course you know that summer is over and winter is coming, but there is now, and if you’ve taken care of eternal things, now is all that matters.

Those sights and smells all came rushing in to my quiet time this morning as I read Keats’ poem (To Autumn) as he provided an Autumn snapshot in poem-form.

I’ve included this link if you’d like to read/listen to it.

The ONE THING for today: Whatever season of life you’re in, don’t pine for the memories of yesterday, this season has music too.