Rhi Celt

“It was one of those early November mornings that are as beautiful as any in spring. There was gold everywhere, drifts of it on the elm tree, flakes of gold under our feet, gold dust on the hedges, liquid gold in the refracted falling light.”
― Elizabeth Goudge, The Dean's Watch

“Most people liked it best in the early spring, when the woods down to the river seemed to shift almost before one’s eyes from snowdrop white to daffodil yellow to the shimmer of bluebells—when the rooks cawed furiously in the beeches, the garden woke to life in a splurge of rhododendrons, and the young lambs caught their heads five times a day in the fencing down the drive. I shall always remember it with the profoundest gratitude, though, as it was that May, that last May, in the last of my old summers.”
― Jan Morris, Conundrum

“December is... by Stewart Stafford

December is all that we give,
And whatever we receive,
It is those who surround us,
And those who have taken leave.

December is celebrating light,
Where only darkness dwells,
It is the ripping of wrapping paper,
And tempting culinary smells.

December is letting go,
Of all the past year's fails,
And starting anew in January,
As time again chases its tail.

© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“I think the seasons complete me-
for once autumn comes
I can fall freely
along with every leave.
I do not have to bloom,
yet, I must die
in every delicate line of October.”
― Laura Chouette