No sun—no moon—no morn—no noon,
No dawn—no dusk—no proper time of day,
No warmth—no cheerfulness—no healthful ease,
No road, no street, no t’ other side the way,
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!
That's by Thomas Hood (1799-1845), in whose day fog and smog were frequent if not constant. And don't we all feel that way on the gloomy days of this darkening month.
But on a misty day, with the damp ground strewn with golden leaves, and a flock of starlings chattering, whistling, warbling (invisibly) in a tree, and the everyday noises muffled ... it's not so bad!
1 comment:
Thanks for a reminder of the poem - very apt indeed this week.
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