Autumn and Emily

(Moxham Mountain, Minerva, New York)

Many of you know that I am obsessive about colored leaves.  I spot them the minute they appear, and

I keep looking until the last one falls to the ground.  Since I have written a few blog posts in the past about fall foliage, I have decided to let Emily Dickinson write this year's.  I tried to pick lines from her poems that illustrate my photographs.  I hope you enjoy this photo poem from Emily and me.

(Kennebunkport, Maine)

Besides the Autumn poets sing,
A few prosaic Days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze --

(Calamity Brook Trail, Tahawus, New York)

Autumn begins to be inferred
By millinery of the cloud,
Or deeper color in the shawl
That wraps the everlasting hill.

(West Artlington, Vermont)

The Clouds their Backs together laid
The North begun to push
The Forests galloped till they fell

(East Arlington, Vermont)

Without commander, countless, still,
The regiment of wood and hill
In bright detachment stand.


 

(Holderness, New Hampshire)

She sweeps with many brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind
Oh housewife in the evening west,
Come back and dust the pond!

 

(Gilmanton, New Hampshire)

Like mighty footlights burned the red
At bases of the trees--
The far theatricals of day
Exhibiting to these.


 

(Moxham Mountain, Minerva, New York)

The Maple wears a gayer scarf--
The field a scarlet gown--
Lest I should be old fashioned
I'll put a trinket on.
 

(Pilot Knob Ridge, Fort Ann, New York)

Frequently the woods are pink--
Frequently are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.