“Is not this a true
autumn day? Just the still melancholy that I love - that makes life and nature
harmonise. The birds are consulting about their migrations, the trees are
putting on the hectic or the pallid hues of decay, and begin to strew the
ground, that one's very footsteps may not disturb the repose of earth and air,
while they give us a scent that is a perfect anodyne to the restless spirit.
Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would
fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”
George Eliot - Letter to Miss Lewis, 1841.
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