'Season of mellow fruitfulness,' wrote Keats. Mellow--we think of orange and red. Yet there's plenty of white this time of year. These whites seems to transcend any season: flowers, antique auto, striped crossing, Emily Dickinson's dress. When winter comes I'll be looking for red.
White autos are rare in New England.
Stripe on stripe.
Here are some strong lines from Dickinson:
The Mind lives on the Heart
Like any parasite--
If that is full of Meat
The Mind is fat--
Her work always surprises me.
Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes
Are organized Decays--
'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An elemental Rust--
Ruin is formal--Devil's work
Consecutive and slow--
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping--is Crashe's law--
Time to sweep out the cobwebs!
Hey Mim, I love the white flower at top, what is it? Not much white here, it is very much a time of red and brown and yellow...
ReplyDeleteNasim:
DeleteThe flower is clematis. Isn't it fine! Large as your hand, I bet.
Regards to you in Edinburgh . . .
Ah, I thought it might be clematis, our clematis season is well over and done with! This is what we have now, eryngium - aka as 'sea holly' - turning from blue to brown:
ReplyDeletehttps://twitter.com/velogubbed/status/249970862579662848
Thank you, Mim!
ReplyDeleteOranges and Lemons in our garden still green. Still warm enough to sleep without a blanket. Thank you for your white. Somehow reminded me of home.
ReplyDeletePlease have a wonderful Tuesday.
Hello to you all. I spied an ancient white Volvo today and wonder what white sights will show up tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteBe well . . .
i love this, love the bluish-grey tones white starts to take on this time of year. your eye and sensibility are a rare treat, mim...
ReplyDeleteI loved the poem. You're right, I never think of white other than in winter terms. Here's to a white autumn! :-)
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
Thanks, Cuban, for stopping by.
ReplyDeleteRegards from Boston . . .