Autumn Leaves Will Fall

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,

Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. 

Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the  autumn leaves lie dead; 

They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.

--William Cullen Bryant

Every autumn I reflect on Bryant's poem, "Death of the Flowers." It so aptly describes much of that time span between the ghoulish revelry of Halloween and the sparkly excitement of Christmas.

In our one-acre yard, fall presents a beautiful canvas of color and texture. And, ultimately results in many sore muscles. I'm sharing some snapshots of the yard before the first of multiple fall clean-ups.

Don't you just love the crunch and rustle of dried leaves?

Although burning leaves was banned in our  community decades ago, in my mind, I can still imagine that wonderful smell. It's an aroma I am lucky to experience every year when we travel to visit my husband's family at Thanksgiving. In his hometown, residents still burn their leaves at the curb. Ahhh, the little things.

Make it a great day!

Linking to:

Outdoor Wednesday at A Southern Daydreamer
Nature Notes at Rambling Woods
Rednesday at It's a Very Cherry World
Potpourri Party at 2805
Newbie Party at Debbiedoos Blogging and Blabbing