My November Guest...

My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She’s glad the birds are gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted gray
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

OK so it's not strictly November...yet. But Robert Frost's My November Guest pretty much sums up the love I have for this time of year - the drum of rain on the roof at night when tucked up in bed, crisp cold frosty days, hearty stews and steaming puddings, bracing walks amongst the trees, roaring log fires, wearing layer upon layer and thick woolly socks, the subtle light of the sun setting across a autumnal sky, misty mornings and frosty fields...there is so much about this season that makes me catch my breath, pause and wonder at the beauty of it all.