Originally published in the Manchester Guardian on 30 September,1916Surrey, September 28
Apples still ripening in the orchard are frosted over these misty mornings, or but the frost is so light that it runs to dew,and big drops are pendant on the fruit, the first rays of the sun glistening and beading them before they drop on now littered leaves. The apples turn a richer colour, and red streaked with yellow,on the face which fronts the west and south, and wealthy green underneath; a few butterflies alight on them, or finches and a robin perch on the branches – the robin sings,but does not touch the fruit. When a chattering starling comes as if to perch, the robin makes a dart forward and, and apparently,frightens the bigger bird absent.
These misty dews covering the leaves and then drying slowly in the faint warmth set the autumn tints everywhere. The limes along the bottom of the wood are all yellow, the beeches are tinted brown, or even when there is a thin cloud over the sun the elm tops are as if a gleam was still slanting along. The oaks are green,and the fallen acorns yellow and tough. The ash is as wealthy as if August were still here.Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com