Kyoto is the name of my heart-dog. She turns 13 in September, and she is named after the most beautiful city in Japan. The closest I have come to seeing leaves like this is a visit to University of British Columbia’s Japanese garden. There is a very rude and untrimmed approximation in my backyard, but don’t tell my shiba inus that…
Tag Archives: autumn
Now is the time for the burning of the leaves,
They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke
Wandering slowly into the weeping mist.
Brittle and blotched, ragged and rotten sheaves!
A flame seizes the smouldering ruin, and bites
On stubborn stalks that crackle as they resist.
The last hollyhock’s fallen tower is dust:
All the spices of June are a bitter reek,
All the extravagant riches spent and mean.
All burns! the reddest rose is a ghost.
Spark whirl up, to expire in the mist: the wild
Fingers of fire are making corruption clean.
Now is the time for stripping the spirit bare,
Time for the burning of days ended and done,
Idle solace of things that have gone before,
Rootless hope and fruitless desire are there:
Let them go to the fire with never a look behind.
That world that was ours is a world that is ours no more.
They will come again, the leaf and the flower, to arise
From squalor of rottenness into the old splendour,
And magical scents to a wondering memory bring;
The same glory, to shine upon different eyes.
Earth cares for her own ruins, naught for ours.
Nothing is certain, only the certain spring.
~~ Laurence Binyon
Another market meltdown day, and few things in life are as pleasing to the soul as an October sunflower. Little Art Box is an art supply shop that runs workshops for kids and adults, tucked away in the heart of funky Roncesvalles Village.
Gourds and flowers in Bloor West Village. Animorphic gourds at a vegetable market on Roncesvalles.