It’s cooling off even here in Southern California and now we can anticipate (or dread) shorter, darker days, to give us plenty of time for self reflection on the passage of time.
The Falling Leaves Today, as I rode by, I saw the brown leaves dropping from their tree In a still afternoon, When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky, But thickly, silently, They fell, like snowflakes wiping out the noon; And wandered slowly thence For thinking of a gallant multitude Which now all withering lay, Slain by no wind of age or pestilence, But in their beauty strewed Like snowflakes falling on the Flemish clay. by Margaret Postgate-Cole (1893–1980)
I had to add this melancholy Nat King Cole song and just noticed he and the poet have the same last name. How cool is that coincidence!
And another version by Frank:
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 