The Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep
Autumn in New England
There is no place like New England in the autumn. Poets and writers have captured the essence of the beauty in poems, essays and songs. Indeed, many of my favorite poems are those written about the woods, trees, flora and fauna of New England.
This weekend, I had the delight to go on a road trip up into the hill country of Western Massachusetts with my cousins. We had a wonderful time discovering covered bridges, waterfalls and great landscapes, all of which will inspire future writings, I am sure.
As we walked around the woods, I kept thinking of all the Robert Frost poems that speak of these hills. I remembered how Thoreau loved them and how Emily Dickinson captured them in her lilting lyrics. As the wind blew, causing leaves to rain down upon us, I recalled the song, Autumn Leaves.
I guess it is true, what I have been told so many times. I am a romantic. I love the sound of babbling brooks, rushing waterfalls and falling leaves. As my cousin said, it must be genetic, since we both love it so much!
Rushing Stream in Conway, MA
One of my favorite poems about the woods is by Frost. After having it read to me over and over as a child, I came to think of it as my vision statement for life. The poem, A Road Less Traveled, suggests that being different, going the way others dare not go, makes a difference in life. Friends and Family, alike, will tell you that I have always been a wee bit different! Wouldn't have it any other way.
Road to the Poet's Seat
Miss Emily, the Belle of Amherst, MA wrote a lovely poem in praise of Autumn. Her words always touch my heart and soul:
AUTUMN by Emily Dickinson
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
Looking off towards Amherst, MA
from the Poet's Tower, Greenfield, MA
The one picture I was thrilled to have captured was of the beautiful sculpture by artist, Joseph Pollia in 1932. For me, it speaks to the joy of being here in these mountains and hills, of our connection to all of live and to our gratitude to the Creator for all we are given. I was so thrilled to see that not only did I capture the beauty of the sculpture, but also the golden trees in the background.
Hail to the Sunrise
As the days grow shorter, let us remember to take time to give thanks for what we have. Let us stop in wonder at the beauty that surrounds us. And, let us never tire of putting our thoughts into poems, essays, songs or capturing them in bronze, clay, on canvas or in sketches.
Sacred and Ancient Sites of New England (tnsinterfaithblog.blogspot.com)