“But now in Autumn with the black and outcast crows/Share we the spacious world. The whispering year is gone./There is more room to live now.The once secret dawn/Comes late by daylight, and the dark unguarded goes.”
—from Immortal Autumn, by Archibald MacLeish
Its a little after 6 AM as i sit here with this glowing portal on my knees, writing for you, something for you to discover (i hope with pleasure) when you awaken. Or as evening falls where Simon is, exactly halfway around our miraculous globe. Our ” Glowbe”.
i thought of those words from this poem, (one of my faves, please read it all,) because at this time of year here in the temperate zone, dawn is indeed “secret” . 6 AM is unquestionably morning! but you’d never know it without looking at the clock. my windows are black. By the time we notice from the sky that yes its morning, the day will be well underway. Dawn comes late by daylight.That’s autumn.
In summer the dawn is indeed a secret, it comes sneaking , seeping, peeping around the edges of the sky long before we’re ready. Surprise! Hey ho, the pink and the gold! when i wake at 5 in summer, as i often do, i dont have to look at the clock to know it’s almost time to throw back the covers.
I love them both, the short days of winter and the long days of summer. I thank my Creator for graciously situating my (to date 🤞) blessed life in the temperate zone.
ST UnWoked & UnVaxxed! 
What people consider “temperate” has always amused me. To a Floridian raised in a home without air conditioning, “temperate is 90F. To someone from Minnesota, temperate is 70F. I’m sure the Inuits have another theory on the subject.
I moved from south Florida to Minnesota after getting married. I was shivering in a lined jacket that covered my knees, while the midwesterners were in short sleeves commenting about how nice the weather seemed to be.
To everyone there is a season, and a time for every jacket under heaven. 😊
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“A time for every sherpa’s under Heaven”….😂😂😂😂😂
( All I meant by temperate though, was a place that has seasons.)
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LOL! You’ve just eliminated South Florida. It has 4 seasons, too: Almost Fall, mosquito, pollen, and summer.
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“What people consider “temperate” has always amused me. To a Floridian raised in a home without air conditioning, “temperate is 90F. ”
As a fellow Floridian, I hear that… Yesterday it went down to 70F and I was miserable. I am spared heavy humidity up here compared to previous digs in SW Florida but I had to put on the heating last night. No like!
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Lovely, as always, Hypatia! Have been rereading a bit of Rosamunde Pilcher – a cozy pleasure – and ran across a poem of Louis MacNiece, as part of the plot-line. Any thoughts about his work?
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Never read him but I’ll check him out, thanks.
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…and wow, he’s great! Can’t imagine how I missed him!
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Most welcome! Not as well-known now as during intra-war years, but his “Autumn Journal” (1938-39) ? poems seem to fit well now. T. S. Eliot championed him, while an editor at Faber & Faber. I’ll be having a look at “Autumn Journal”, too.
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“Have been rereading a bit of Rosamunde Pilcher … ”
Are you referring to the author of Coming Home, September, The Shell Seekers, Winter Solstice ? Gosh, I’ve read and loved them all!
I do need to take absence from all the politicos I read and she is the perfect antidote!
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Yes, I am, Liz! Her very believable “coziness” has been a pleasure for decades. (The “Autumn Journal” poetry is referenced in _The Shell Seekers_.) There’s a newly-released book of short stories, _A Place Like Home_ that might be just the thing. 🙂
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Yeah. Dawn. A better poem:
My alarm clock went off
Way before Dawn
I hurled a shoe
ZZZZZZZZZZZ
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“Up with the sun,
Gone with the wind…”
Bob Seger
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Thanks for these Hypatia. I hated all poets and poetry except for Ovid until you “walked into the room.”
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Oh, you gents! You DO like poetry, or would if you heard or read poems on a topic that interests you— you just don’t know it. Yet.
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