Fall 2022
Tennessee
One morning I was sitting on the porch with my tea, reading Mary Oliver as is my morning custom. The poem was Song for Autumn, appropriately, since it was, indeed, autumn. And don’t you hear the goldenrod whispering goodbye…she says? And so, I went for my camera, and around the corner to where the goldenrod in the garden was flaring in the autumn sunlight. Flowers, poetry, photography, morning rituals–all are excellent antidotes to the melancholy that descends as the days grow shorter.
