Bookend Poems on Autumn’s Arrival

Poems about autumn, which arrived almost unexpectedly yesterday and as silently as if sneaking in on tiptoes for summer still seems in the air, surely outnumber all the leaves of reds and golds and flaming oranges in a forest of maple trees.

Not unexpectedly, one of the best of these poems was written by Emily Dickinson, a short offering published in 1896 and titled “Nature Poem, 28: Autumn.” It reads, in full:

“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.”

The nuts here on the Golden Coast may not be getting brown, but our mornings certainly are noticeably meeker than before. Too, our evenings now grow darker, earlier. Indeed, it is as if the setting sun is in a race to call it a day a little sooner each evening. Soon, a walk on the beach may require a gayer scarf.

Greeting autumn with a hello embrace means in turn bidding a melancholy adieu to summer. Indeed, I love summer and will miss her dearly. In the heart of my youth, summer was without question my favorite of the four seasons for two reasons: warm weather and no school.

I have since learned that choosing a favorite season is a fool’s errand. It is like asking me to choose between Steinbeck, Hemingway, Twain and Shakespeare. Impossible.

Spring, for starters, is blooming flowers and flying kites and, as Tennyson poetically observed, when young men’s fancies turn to thoughts of love – so what’s not to love about this fair season?

Summer is beach outings and pool parties, fireflies and fireworks, ice cream and vacations – again, what’s not to adore fully?

Winter, meanwhile, is cozy fires and family gatherings, mistletoe and Auld Lang Syne and the New Year’s promise of approaching spring – how can you not love all that?

Thus, my favorite season is whichever one is currently visiting. And right now that is autumn. Many call it “fall”, but I think “autumn” is lovelier. By either name, its arrival brings with it…

…a crispness in the air that is invigorating.

…coffee shops and market shelves offering Pumpkin Spice This, Pumpkin Spice That, Pumpkin Spice Everything!

…corn mazes and hayrides and pumpkin patches and school children spending half an hour to select The Perfect Pumpkin for a jack-o-lantern with all the care of a bride choosing her wedding dress.

…carving jack-o-lanterns, going trick-or-treating, and having an excuse as a grown-up to dress up like a superhero.

…comfort foods such as homemade soups, chili and cornbread, marshmallows toasted over a fire, pumpkin pie/bread/pudding/cookies/coffee.

…football and Thanksgiving.

…fall foliage showing its true colors, not as grandly in Southern California as on the East Coast and Midwest, yet in a way our limited-edition outbursts of Monet-worthy leaves-scapes make them all the more precious and beautiful.

Speaking of leaves, fall’s arrival brings to mind another of my favorite poems, a bookend to Dickinson’s “Autumn.” Titled “Fantastic Fall” it was written by my daughter, Dallas, then in the fourth grade:

“Fall is a great season, here is my reason:

“The leaves on trees turn golden brown,

“Then the leaves fall DOWN, Down, down…

“You rake them into a giant hump,

“Next comes the good part – jump, Jump, JUMP!

“Leaves sail through the crisp autumn air,

“And fall down, Down, DOWN everywhere!”

Yes, right now I love autumn best. Until winter rings my doorbell.

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Essay copyrights Woody Woodburn

Woody writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

A Magical Blizzard of Leaves

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Watching A Magical

Blizzard With Maya

The other day, shortly before autumn turned pages to winter in Northern California, I caught my 2-year-old granddaughter Maya standing on the couch. Naturally, I joined her – not standing on the cushions, of course, but kneeling and facing backwards so as to look out the front picture window with her.

Maya likes to stand there, in stocking feet, watching for people to come home; watching for the mailman and Amazon drivers; watching for the garbage truck. Watching, basically, the world parade by.

I highly recommend it. You should try it sometime for the little girl is onto something. Her big window surpasses a jumbo flat-screen TV, which she is not allowed to watch by the way. Wise parents she has.

My dear Maya and me enjoying some laughs.

So there my dear “Meatball” and I were, standing and kneeling side by side and watching together, when the most magical thing happened – it started to snow. The snowflakes were bigger than Maya’s open hand, almost the size of my spread palm, and they were golden and red and orange and 50 more hues of flame and fire. It was a blizzard painted by Monet.

I grew up in the Midwest with autumns of a brilliance we do not enjoy in Southern California, and I have seen the “Fall Colors” on the East Coast, but never before had I witnessed a tree shed its leaves as quickly as a person removing their coat.

One moment the majestic maple across the street was flush and full, the next moment it was as naked as a jaybird without even a jay resting on a limb. I barely exaggerate for it was like watching a time-lapse video with days condensed into a moment. In five minutes surely 50 percent of the leaves fell without pause. Five minutes more and fully 90 percent of the foliage was on the ground.

A gusty wind was not even at play. Instead, the leaves were rustling softly on the branches like wind chimes in a gentle breeze when, all of the sudden, it was as though one leaf shouted “It’s time!” and they all began letting go.

It was a bit like watching a fireworks finale and I’m certain Maya and I exhaled a few “oohs” and ahhs.” Indeed, had the mailman come by just then he would have surely seen two mouths agape and our eyes opened even wider in wonder.

If a tree can be compared to a poem, this lovely one was poetry in motion. And yet the poem that came to my mind was not Joyce Kilmer’s renowned “Trees” that famously begins “I think that I shall never see / A poem lovely as a tree.”

Instead, I smiled remembering “Fantastic Fall” penned in pencil by Maya’s mommy when she was in the fourth grade. It won the youth division of the Ventura Poetry Festival in 1998 and still hangs in my study:

Fall is a great season, here is my reason:

The leaves on trees turn golden brown,

Then the leaves fall DOWN, Down, down…

You rake them into a giant hump,

Next comes the good part – jump, Jump, JUMP!

Leaves sail through the crisp autumn air,

And fall down, Down, DOWN everywhere!

As the leaves piled up, Up, UP, I dearly wanted to grab Maya by her tiny hand, and grab a rake, and make a giant hump for her to jump, Jump, JUMP! into. Alas, we were already 10 magical minutes late for her dinner.

Next autumn, however, Maya and I shall skip dinner if need be.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His SIGNED books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Personalized Signed copies of WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and  “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” are available at WoodyWoodburn.com

 

Autumn Comes Knocking

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Autumn Comes Knocking

On The Front Door

            Were you, like me, caught off guard by a guest who came knocking on your front door this past Monday?

Even though I was expecting her, she still seemed to arrive surprisingly early. Yet when I checked the clock – the calendar, actually – it turned out she was perfectly on time: September 23.

Yes, autumn is here.

Truly, I should have heard her pull into the driveway. After all, for the past few weeks dawn has suddenly had a pleasant chill to it.

At the least, I should have heard her walking up the front sidewalk a moment before she knocked. I mean, the setting sun has seemed in a race lately to bring twilight noticeably a little sooner each evening. Goodness, I’ve even had to turn on my car headlights many evenings, something that in summer only seems necessary on a late night out.

Oh, how I love summer and will miss her dearly. In the eyes of my youth, it was without question No. 1 of the four seasons. Top two reasons: warm weather and no school.

Presently, however, if you asked me my favorite season I could not say. It is a fool’s errand of a question, a Sophie’s choice. It is like asking me to choose between Steinbeck, Hemingway and Twain. Impossible.

Spring, for starters, is blooming flowers and flying kites and, as Tennyson observed, when young men’s fancies turn to thoughts of love – so what’s not to love about the season?

Yet summer is beach outings and pool parties and vacations of travel and ice cream cones and bike rides – again, what’s not to love?

Winter, meanwhile, is cozy fires and family gatherings, sledding and snowboarding, mistletoe and Auld Lang Syne, and the New Year’s promise of approaching spring – how can you not love all that?

Thus, my favorite season is whichever one is currently visiting. And right now that is autumn. Many call it “fall”, but I think “autumn” is lovelier. By either name, its arrival brings with it …

A crispness in the air, even on our Golden Coast, that is invigorating.

Markets and coffee shops offering limited-edition Pumpkin Spice This, Pumpkin Spice That, Pumpkin Everything!

Hayrides and pumpkin patches and children spending half an hour, or longer, selecting The Perfect Pumpkin for a jack-o-lantern with all the care of a bride choosing her wedding dress and shoes.

Linus and The Great Pumpkin.

Carving jack-o-lanterns, going trick-or-treating, and having an excuse as a grown-up to dress up like Batman or Cat Woman.

Comfort foods such as homemade soups, chili and cornbread, marshmallows toasted over a fire, pumpkin pie/bread/pudding/cookies/coffee.

Leaves that show their true colors, not in the widespread explosions of oranges and reds and golds that our East Coast and Midwest friends enjoy, but in a way our limited-edition outbursts of Monet-worthy leaves-scapes here make them all the more precious and beautiful.

Speaking of leaves, autumn’s arrival always transports my mind’s eye back to a giant pile of leaves that took forever to rake together. It was in my friend Dan’s well-wooded backyard, back in Ohio of my boyhood, back when I was about 8.

Above the pile of leaves rose a colossal tree and from a strong branch hung a rope tied to an old tractor tire. We took turns pushing each other on that tire swing, soaring higher and higher still, before launching ourselves airborne and flying towards a giggling crash landing on Mother Nature’s leafy mattress of red and orange and gold.

Yes, right now I love autumn best.

Until winter rings my doorbell on December 21.

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FOLLOW ME ON INSTAGRAM: @woodywoodburn

Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …