Blowy

Autumn

October's bellowing anger breaks and cleaves
The bronzed battalions of the stricken wood
In whose lament I hear a voice that grieves
For battle’s fruitless harvest, and the feud
Of outraged men. Their lives are like the leaves
Scattered in flocks of ruin, tossed and blown
Along the westering furnace flaring red.
O martyred youth and manhood overthrown,
The burden of your wrongs is on my head.

Siegfried Sassoon (1886-1967)


Today was very much a day for staying indoors where it was safe and warm, but I did venture out at lunch time, for a walk and to take some photos. I didn't use any filters or other fartnarkling to create this movement, just a slow shutter speed in a storm-tossed garden. There are some more shots here, if you're interested.

This is my absolutely favourite Eva Cassidy performance. I didn't know until I looked it up just now that this song is a translation of the original French Les Feuilles Mortes, the lyric of which was written by my absolutely favourite French poet, Jacques Prévert, with music by the Hungarian-French composer Joseph Kosma.