75ZT Community

.... When out walking the dog near home I noticed, the leaves were falling from the trees this evening... Small piles of them under the hedges, a soft crunching underfoot, hard to tell this years young Coots, Mallard, Geese, pigeons etc from their parents now.. And it grew dark under the trees around 8 pm.....

Time to start thinking about my thermostat and FBH (Fuel burning heater.) I guess.... Temperance fugit innit....
...

Yeah & I just noticed my secret crop of blackberries are ready to pick it's not time yet surely

I had to for walking to work this morning and it's getting darker earlier too so beckons sooner.

Fear it might be!

"Winter's not yet o'er when the geese fly that way...."

If only they'd change the clocks in Spring a week earlier and again in Autumn a week later - summer would be 4 weeks longer compared to winter.

[centre]John Keats - To Autumn
I

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.


II

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.


III

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.[/centre]

[centre]Spring & Fall - Gerard Manley Hopkins
(One of my favourite poems ever)

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.[/centre]

OMGawd. Everyone's gone to waxing Lyrical innit!

I fawt peeps only went there in the Spring..
...

Same up here , my rear heated window has stayed on last 2 mornings !!

This will end as a better check your plenums thread

Dave Goody wrote:This will end as a better check your plenums thread :D

- Maybe.

I drove serenely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er roads and drives,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Seventy Fives;
Beside the lake, their chrome so bright,
Glittering and shining in the light.

Continuous did those cars all shine
And twinkle on that metalled way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Like one great Rover parking bay:
One score I saw there all bedecked,
With Newbies having their plenums checked.

Now oft, when in my car I sigh
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon my inward eye
With thoughts of beauty gladly viewed;
And then my heart with pleasure thrives,
And dances with the Seventy Fives.