Sunday, October 4, 2009

All the Sumacs on the Hill

When I was growing up in Ontario, we memorized poetry! Imagine that! The line about 'all the sumacs on the hills have turned their green to red' has stuck in my memory all these years.

Here's the complete poem below. It's in the public domaine.

William Wilfred Campbell's (1858?-1918) Indian Summer

Along the line of smoky hills
The crimson forest stands,
And all the day the blue-jay calls
Throughout the autumn lands.

Now by the brook the maple leans
With all his glory spread,
And all the sumacs on the hills
Have turned their green to red.

Now by great marshes wrapt in mist,
Or past some river's mouth,
Throughout the long, still autumn day
Wild birds are flying south.

This poetry particularly resonates with me during the fall as
I admire the colourful landscapes all around me.

The pictures below, taken on my walks, capture the 'turning' of the
beautiful sumacs on the hills from green to red.
I hope you enjoy them. (double click to enlarge)




A carpet of red maple and sumac leaves covers the pathway above on this 'long still autumn day'.

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