Autumn in-between

AAAAARGH! Facebook... Facebook!! What hast thou done to me??? Thou swell... thou pretty... thou sweet... thou witty-maleficent-knavish work of art!

Yes, Reader I have been imprisoned in the charms of Facebook and guarded by an army of its applications... finger shackled to its little impudent poking games, splattered with sploches of Graffiti on my SuperWall and innundated with Growing Gifts, Hatching Eggs and those gawd-awful grinning Pumpkins!

Somewhere between fighting off the Sith; slinging sheep at my friends; surfing the waves of virtual Booze and swimming against the tide of trout-slaps... I realised to my horror that I had a long-suffering blog sitting and waiting quietly on the shores of Forgottenmore.

So I have stuffed Facebook away in a cupboard, and come back home to Bloggerland to update you on the riverman~~~ and the Autumn in-between.

Ah! The pretty picture that is Autumn! She comes around with a kick in the air and a crunch under feet.

Summer technically turned into Autumn for the riverman~~~ when I stopped by the side of the road on a little grass verge beside the road and took a picture of this little leafy mosiac, and didn't even realise that Sarah, John and Danny boy were sitting in a car chuckling away at my little attempt at artistry.

Blame it on the cinnamon-apple in the air... for Autumn makes fools of us all, and the riverman~~~ is an autumn creature, and has always been!

Autumn is the time for country walks and sweet ripe apples in your pockets.


Autumn is a time for raking in the garden and discovering hedghogs under trees.

Autumn is acorns on the ground and nuts on the table.

Autumn is blue jays and cardinals and robins and doves.

Autumn is a festival of trees in competitive costume: scarlet-n-russet, burgundy -n-brick, pumpkin-n-orange, copper-n-crimson-n-burnished-amber-gold.

Autumn means friends around a fire and a bowl of mulled wine... and most of all...

... Autumn is a time for stories... and here is one of the riverman~~~'s favourites:

The anxious little leaf

Once upon a time a little leaf was heard to sigh and cry, as leaves often do when a gentle wind is about. And the twig said, "What is the matter, little leaf?" And the leaf said, "The wind just told me that one day it would pull me off and throw me down to die on the ground!"

The twig told it to the branch on which it grew, and the branch told it to the tree. And when the tree heard it, it rustled all over, and sent back word to the leaf, "Do not be afraid. Hold on tightly, and you shall not go till you want to."

And so the leaf stopped sighing, but went on nestling and singing. Every time the tree shook itself and stirred up all its leaves, the branches shook themselves, and the little twig shook itself, and the little leaf danced up and down merrily, as if nothing could ever pull it off. And so it grew all summer long, till October.

And when the bright days of autumn came the little leaf saw all the leaves around becoming very beautiful. Some were yellow and some scarlet, and some striped with both colors. Then it asked the tree what it meant. And the tree said, "All these leaves are getting ready to fly away, and they have put on these beautiful colors because of joy."

Then the little leaf began to want to go, too, and grew very beautiful in thinking of it, and when it was very gay in color it saw that the branches of the tree had no bright color in them, and so the leaf said, "O branches! why are you lead-color and we golden?"

"We must keep on our work-clothes, for our life is not done - but your clothes are for holiday, because your tasks are over," said the branches.

Just then a little puff of wind came, and the leaf let go without thinking of it, and the wind took it up and turned it over and over, and whirled it like a spark of fire in the air, and then it dropped gently down under the edge of the fence, among hundreds of leaves, and fell into a dream, and it never woke up to tell what it dreamed about.

~~~