Its that time of year again, when we jump from summer to Autumn. Lately the seasons seem to be a little confused. It worries me. When I was a little girl, summers were hot, Autumns were chilly and windy, Winter was cold and icy and Spring was wet and bright. At least I think they were, do you suppose our memories are a little confused too?
By The Autumn Sea
FAIR as the dawn of the fairest day,
Sad as the evening's tender gray,
By the latest lustre of sunset kissed,
That wavers and wanes through an amber mist,
There cometh a dream of the past to me,
On the desert sands, by the autumn sea.
By Paul Hamilton Hayne
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