Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Indian Summer


A gift from nature after the frost.
Gentle golden days.
Sensuous and saturated
A souvenir to savor.




III. NATURE.
XXVII.
INDIAN SUMMER.
These are the days when birds come back,
A very few, a bird or two,
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, --
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief,
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
And softly through the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf!
Oh, sacrament of summer days,
Oh, last communion in the haze,
Permit a child to join,
Thy sacred emblems to partake,
Thy consecrated bread to break,
Taste thine immortal wine!

Emily Dickenson




2 comments:

The HR Guy said...

More great pics from the amazing Adirondacks. This has been the most amazing summer, and now Indian Summer just keeps adding to it. Thanks for capturing the memories.

Diane McGregor said...

Kathleen, the beauty and poetry of the images works perfectly with the Emily Dickenson poem. I am so jealous of the incredible natural vistas you must have there at the lake. The reflections are sublime! The fleeting quality of the autumn landscape is both poignant and breathtaking. Great post!