From October, or Autumnal Tints by Henry David Thoreau:
“October is the month of painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint, just before they fall, so the year near its setting….”
From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:
“In the autumn the sighing of the winds is softer than ever, the gentle ah-ah-ing filling the sky with a fine universal mist of music, the birds have little to say, and there is no appreciable stir or rustling among the trees save that caused by the harvesting squirrels. Most of the seeds are ripe and away … everything alike drenched in gold light, heaven’s colors coming down to the meadows and groves, making every leaf a romance, air, earth, and water in peace beyond thought, the great brooding days opening and closing in divine psalms of color.”
From John Muir Ultimate Collection: Travel Memoirs, Wilderness Essays, Environmental Studies and Letters by John Muir:
“Walk away quietly in any direction and taste the freedom of the mountaineer…. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves. As age comes on, one source of enjoyment after another is closed, but Nature’s sources never fail.”
From Outside Lies Magic: Regaining History and Awareness in Everyday Places by John R. Stilgoe:
“Autumn leaves, no matter how brilliantly colored, fall to the ground dead, but the tree lives….”
From The Journal of Joyce Carol Oates: 1973-1982 by Joyce Carol Oates (September 28, 1979 and October 14, 1981):
“These extraordinary autumn days! A godlike beauty to the countryside that cannot be described, and very nearly cannot be experienced — it is so amazing. One walks or rides along in a veritable daze. Surely there is no season quite like this….”
“The remarkable energy and passion of these autumn days: simply, a feast for the eye … almost dazzling, such beauty … maples, and ashes, and dogwood …. Why is my wish always, always and forever, if only this season would never pass.”
