On Autumn
This is my favorite season of the year, and I found the following gem posted by Holly H-B on Teamail, my favorite tea mailing list:
"The roadside stands were piled with golden pumpkins and russet squashes and baskets of red apples so crisp and sweet that they seemed to explode with juice when I bit into them. I bought apples and a gallon jug of fresh-pressed cider...the climate changed quickly to cold and the trees burst into color, the reds and yellows you can't believe. It isn't only a color but a glowing, as though the leaves gobbled the light of the autumn sun and then released it slowly. There's a quality of fire in the colors." John Steinbeck, Travels With Charley
Couldn't resist reposting it here.
I've also spent the evening on a recipe-scrounging binge. I suppose it'd be an awful waste of immortality, were I ever granted such a gift, to spend it experimenting with different recipes, eh?
"The roadside stands were piled with golden pumpkins and russet squashes and baskets of red apples so crisp and sweet that they seemed to explode with juice when I bit into them. I bought apples and a gallon jug of fresh-pressed cider...the climate changed quickly to cold and the trees burst into color, the reds and yellows you can't believe. It isn't only a color but a glowing, as though the leaves gobbled the light of the autumn sun and then released it slowly. There's a quality of fire in the colors." John Steinbeck, Travels With Charley
Couldn't resist reposting it here.
I've also spent the evening on a recipe-scrounging binge. I suppose it'd be an awful waste of immortality, were I ever granted such a gift, to spend it experimenting with different recipes, eh?