O Autumn, how I love each crisp fresh morn,
and pumpkin fields the sparkling frost adorns.
The sun through crimson, bronze or amber tree
entices the photographer in me.
Your presence means the year is growing old;
foretells the Winter’s snow and wind and cold,
your beauties ease us to December’s door
with faith that Spring will surely come once more.
Thanks again to Eloise Renouf for her book:
20 Ways to Draw a Tree and 44 Other Nifty Things from Nature