Only Ella Fitzgerald could conjure such a wistful and melancholic portrait of autumn, and it seems right for a rainy autumn day. Or night – this may be too moody for a daytime romp. It requires a darkness not provided by an overcast day. Thankfully, our Thanksgiving cactus is already in early bud, signaling the arrival of earlier nights.
WHEN AN EARLY AUTUMN WALKS THE LAND AND CHILLS THE BREEZE
AND TOUCHES WITH HER HAND THE SUMMER TREES,
PERHAPS YOU’LL UNDERSTAND WHAT MEMORIES I OWN.
THERE’S A DANCE PAVILION IN THE RAIN ALL SHUTTERED DOWN,
A WINDING COUNTRY LANE ALL RUSSET BROWN,
A FROSTY WINDOW PANE SHOWS ME A TOWN GROWN LONELY.
THAT SPRING OF OURS THAT STARTED SO APRIL-HEARTED,
SEEMED MADE FOR JUST A BOY AND GIRL.
I NEVER DREAMED, DID YOU, ANY FALL WOULD COME IN VIEW
SO EARLY, EARLY.
DARLING IF YOU CARE, PLEASE, LET ME KNOW,
I’LL MEET YOU ANYWHERE, I MISS YOU SO.
LET’S NEVER HAVE TO SHARE ANOTHER EARLY AUTUMN.
