Monday, October 17, 2016
Thursday, October 13, 2016
|Photo Credit: Moi.|
The season changes. A cold wind chills the beach.
The long lines of it grow longer, emptier,
A darkness gathers though it does not fall
And the whiteness grows less vivid on the wall.
The man who is walking turns blankly on the sand.
He observes how the north is always enlarging the change,
With its frigid brilliances, its blue-red sweeps
And gusts of great enkindlings, its polar green,
The color of ice and fire and solitude.
~ Wallace Stevens, The Auroras of Autumn, II.6-8