GIP
Falling into another season.
azrhiaz gave me this icon some time ago and now seems like the right occasion to use it. She noted that the unusual thing about it was that the leaves were limned with frost. I like the frozen, preserved beauty of their color, yet the cold touch is deceptive, isn't lasting, can be melted with the warm trace of a finger. The leaves have fallen, are dead, but their splendor lives.
For the keyword, I chose "the fall of the leaf". Capitalized, that's the original title of a poem by a poet whose work Az has been known to favor. After the poet's death, it was set to music by Edward Dannreuther, which is probably why it has the (unoriginal) name "Autumn Song".
Thanks, Az.
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
-Dante Gabriel Rossetti
azrhiaz gave me this icon some time ago and now seems like the right occasion to use it. She noted that the unusual thing about it was that the leaves were limned with frost. I like the frozen, preserved beauty of their color, yet the cold touch is deceptive, isn't lasting, can be melted with the warm trace of a finger. The leaves have fallen, are dead, but their splendor lives.
For the keyword, I chose "the fall of the leaf". Capitalized, that's the original title of a poem by a poet whose work Az has been known to favor. After the poet's death, it was set to music by Edward Dannreuther, which is probably why it has the (unoriginal) name "Autumn Song".
Thanks, Az.
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?
Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?
-Dante Gabriel Rossetti