Skip to main content

Autumn Doorstep

 “Well, that was life. 
Gladness and pain...hope and fear...
and change. Always change! 
You could not help it. 
You had to let the old go 
and take the new to your heart...
learn to love it and then let it go in turn. 
Spring, lovely as it was, 
must yield to summer 
and summer lose itself in autumn."
~L.M. Montgomery  

In truth, I love the changing of the seasons. 
There is a hint of sadness in autumn 
for the death of flowers and leaves. 
However, it also speaks of the bounty of harvest 
and laying up a store of treasure for the winter. 
It is definitely the last gloriously colorful time of year.

My front porch display is all in muted tones, as usual, 
but it has a decided fall flair with the tasseled grass and tiny pumpkins.

As to the process of getting in tune with autumn...

My doorstep had been bare for weeks but yesterday I dressed it for the season. I've been searching for the perfect smallish urns to place on either side of the door and finally found these online at Home Depot. They are (almost) the perfect size.

I decided to fill them with a few mini white gourds and ornamental grasses. County line Greenhouse, just outside of the village, had these just-the-right-size Prairie Winds 'Apache Rose' grasses, perennials that I hope to keep over winter. 

The white gourds are from Sweetwater Farm just on the edge of our village. If you want a lovely splash of autumn colors you really should stop in and browse their harvest displays. From fruits to vegetables to flowers they probably have what you are looking for.

I stuck in a few sprigs of dried money plant to fill empty spaces.

And so we welcome another changing of the seasons!

As expressed in the following quote, something about autumn brings out the poet in me and a very real sense of pleasure despite the dying of green.

“Her pleasure in the walk must arise 
from the exercise and the day, 
from the view of the last smiles of the year 
upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, 
and from repeating to herself some few 
of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn...
that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence 
on the mind of taste and tenderness...
that season which has drawn from every poet 
worthy of being read some attempt at description, 
or some lines of feeling.” 
~Jane Austen