The light falls so variously here, at the end of October

art:  Alfred Sisley

And this poem - so appropriate and so thought-provoking for me:

"Like someone who opens a door of glass
or sees his own reflection in it
when he returns from the woods
the light falls so variously here at the end of October
that nothing is whole or can be made into a whole
because the cracks are too uncertain and constantly moving.

Then you experience the miracle
of entering into yourself like a diamond
in glass, enjoying its own fragility
when the storm carries everything else away
including the memory of a freckled girlfriend
out over the bluing lake hidden behind the bare hills."

-   Henrik Nordbrandt,  The Glass Door
    Translated by Thomas Satterlee 

 more thoughts on the season:

art:  Wilson Henry Irvine

art: Theodore Robinson