My favorite season is upon us! More or less: it’s only early September, it may get hot again. But it feels like autumn to me: the nights chill, the days creeping into warmth, and the trees beginning to turn
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You've never been apple picking? I feel this a terrible wrong that must be righted. You must go apple picking.
In my very early childhood, we went to an old orchard that still had non-dwarf trees, and there were tapered ladders that you could lean against the trees to climb up in them. Later it was all dwarf trees, which is still fun, but not the same as these grand, gnarled trees.
The Hopkins poem I associate with my mother's death. I came across it first in a collection of songs put out by Natalie Merchant that came out, and that I listened to, right after she died. Plus, my mother's name was Margaret.
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In my very early childhood, we went to an old orchard that still had non-dwarf trees, and there were tapered ladders that you could lean against the trees to climb up in them. Later it was all dwarf trees, which is still fun, but not the same as these grand, gnarled trees.
The Hopkins poem I associate with my mother's death. I came across it first in a collection of songs put out by Natalie Merchant that came out, and that I listened to, right after she died. Plus, my mother's name was Margaret.
... I do think it's a lovely poem.
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I hope the poem didn't bring up too many bad memories.
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