Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost - New Hampshire 1923.
The poem's about spring's fleeting moments, and that's what I'm dreaming of today. The autumn gold in my garden will also fade away soon enough. Except for my pictured Yew tree of course.
Have you noticed how the trees seem to glow at dusk at the moment? Threadspider and I were discussing it the other day - it's just like all the year's captured sunlight is being used to light up our autumn evenings. Utterly magnificent.
Garden Bloggers' Muse Day - poetry on the 1st of the month, hosted by Carolyn Gail at Sweet Home & Garden Chicago.