I loved you when love was Spring, and May, Loved you when summer deepened into June, and now when autumn yellows all the leaves.
It is a sad moment when the first phlox appears. It is the amber light indicating the end of the great burst of early summer and suggesting that we must now start looking forward to autumn. Not that I have any objection to autumn as a season, full of its own beauty; but I just cannot bear to see another summer go, and I recoil from what the first hint of autumn means.
Autumn in felted slipper shuffles on, Muted yet fiery.--Vita Sackville-West
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