tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27502897933748812272011-06-16T09:35:00.288-07:00Bloggernoreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2750289793374881227.post-49353764382027152522007-10-07T09:35:00.000-07:002011-01-19T06:33:40.373-08:00Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf<br />How the heart feels a languid grief<br />Laid on it for a covering,<br />And how sleep seems a goodly thing<br />In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?<br /><br />- Dante Alighieri<br /><br />Autumn is here and with it comes the invitation to slow down, to let go, to rest, to absorb.<br /><br />Autumn's voice is soft, almost a whisper. You can miss it if you're not careful. It does not shout. It does not grab you and demand attention. It's an artist alone in its studio. It moves in a quiet rhythm of change effortlessly waving its palette of paints coloring the landscape in a rainbow, then in muted hues, until at last winter arrives like an unskilled laborer carrying a bucket, bruptly splashing everything with gray.<br /><br />For now, the colors delight and instruct. Look and listen.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2750289793374881227-4935376438202715252?l=thelongerlook.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Bloggernoreply@blogger.com0