Our back road day trip was fantastic! There were so many wonderful vistas
and beautiful farms draped in fall color. We had frost here this morning! Perhaps that's why I thought of Robert Frost... who knows? This is a poem
by him called:
A Late Walk
When I go up through the mowing field,
the headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth,
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry home to you.