Perhaps it's the energy visible and vibrating in flaming orange, red, and yellow leaves. Perhaps it's the gusty winds that blow more frequently than not. Perhaps it's the hustle and bustle of farmers getting harvest done before snow covers the fields. Perhaps it's the birds and waterfowl and insects that migrate South from our North Country. When I lived in Massachusetts, an urge for going was felt first by bluefish and, later, by striped bass as they headed for Wintering waters around the Chesapeake and points South. It was often a dilemma of the best kind deciding whether to chase departing stripers or greet waterfowl arriving from the North.
maples are alive and vibrating with color
Photo by J. Harrington
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Most of the music I associate with autumn relates to restless movement. Here's a few examples:
Song for Autumn
by Mary Oliver
In the deep falldon’t you imagine the leaves think howcomfortable it will be to touchthe earth instead of thenothingness of air and the endlessfreshets of wind? And don’t you thinkthe trees themselves, especially those with mossy,warm caves, begin to thinkof the birds that will come — six, a dozen — to sleepinside their bodies? And don’t you hearthe goldenrod whispering goodbye,the everlasting being crowned with the firsttuffets of snow? The pondvanishes, and the white field over whichthe fox runs so quickly brings outits blue shadows. And the wind pumps itsbellows. And at evening especially,the piled firewood shifts a little,longing to be on its way.
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