Every leaf speaks bliss to me

I finished re-checking the last few chapters of my daughter-in-law’s book this morning, after which our other daughter-in-law came here for lunch and a catch up chat.

This afternoon Smithers and I walked to our doctors’ surgery to drop in his blood pressure readings, and we passed this tree on our way home. It’s a favourite of mine, and as the leaves were just beginning to show their glorious autumn colours I had to grab a shot of them, omitting the distracting street lamp and road sign.

Emily Brontë sums up her love of autumn thus:

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day;
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night’s decay
Ushers in a drearier day.