Autumn is a season followed immediately by looking forward to spring.
falling leaves hide the path so quietly
Days decrease, And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house.
Autumn carries more gold in its pocket than all the other seasons.
Give me a land of boughs in leaf A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen there is grief; I love no leafless land.
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter woods.
Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable...the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street...by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.
Autumn is the mellower season, and what we lose in flowers we more than gain in fruits.
There is something incredibly nostalgic and significant about the annual cascade of autumn leaves.
October proved a riot a riot to the senses and climaxed those giddy last weeks before Halloween.
The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
Give me juicy autumnal fruit, ripe and red from the orchard.
Are ye the ghosts of fallen leaves, O flakes of snow, For which, through naked trees, the winds A-mourning go?
Such days of autumnal decline hold a strange mystery which adds to the gravity of all our moods.
Fall colors are funny. They’re so bright and intense and beautiful. It’s like nature is trying to fill you up with color, to saturate you so you can stockpile it before winter turns everything muted and dreary.
On a bare branch a crow is perched - autumn evening
Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under harvest skies.
Leaves covered pavement like soggy cereal.
Autumn is leaving its mellowness behind for its spiky, rotted stage. Don't remember summer even saying goodbye.
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn evening. The Field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of witherd leaves, and the elms, Fade into dimness apace, Silent;hardly a shout From a few boys late at their play!
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