It’s no coincidence that my hubster and I refer to the month of October as the month o’ love. We love everything about it! We were even married on the side of a mountain during the month of October (Pretty Place, Greenville SC).
Every open weekend during the month we plan a getaway. Sometimes it’s an overnight stay but often it’s day trips. One of my favorite day-trip destinations is Carl Sandburg’s home, perched atop a hill in Flat Rock, NC.
This past weekend we took a hike around the front lake, the one that sits at the bottom of the hill, below his home. The crimson-threaded leaves embraced the lake as if they were saying a final farewell, at least for now.
Could Carl Sandburg have been sitting on his front stoop, observing the same breathtaking views, as he penned Autumn Movement?
by Carl Sandburg
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.
What will you miss the most with the passing of Fall?
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