Yesterday’s day of rest brought with it a wonderful time at an apple orchard and pumpkin patch with the family. It was a beautiful day, with a light breeze and some intermittent cloud cover.
The flowers were in full bloom at the pumpkin patch and gave forth a wonderful sense of serenity as they blew in the wind. Two poems came to mind:
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
– T.S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton”
The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning “no.”
And tonight the heavy earth is falling
away from all other stars in the loneliness.
We’re all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the other one. It’s in them all.
And yet there is Someone, whose hands
infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
– Rainer Maria Rilke, “Autumn”