things to love about October

Crystal clear sky
Fallen leaves
Horror movies
Pumpkin spice latte
Halloween
Trick or Treat

Ulalume

 Edgar Allan Poe

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere --
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir: --
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul --
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
There were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll --
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek,
In the ultimate climes of the Pole --
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the Boreal Pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere --
Our memories were treacherous and sere;
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year --
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber,
(Though once we had journeyed down here)
We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn --
As the star-dials hinted of morn --
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn --
Astarte's bediamonded crescent,
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said -- "She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs --
She revels in a region of sighs.
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion,
To point us the path to the skies --
To the Lethean peace of the skies --
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes --
Come up, through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said -- "Sadly this star I mistrust --
Her pallor I strangely mistrust --
Ah, hasten! -- ah, let us not linger!
Ah, fly! -- let us fly! -- for we must."
In terror she spoke; letting sink her
Wings till they trailed in the dust --
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust --
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied -- "This is nothing but dreaming.
Let us on, by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybillic splendor is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty to-night --
See! -- it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright --
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom --
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista --
But were stopped by the door of a tomb --
By the door of a legended tomb: --
And I said -- "What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied -- "Ulalume -- Ulalume --
'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere --
As the leaves that were withering and sere --
And I cried -- "It was surely October
On _this_ very night of last year,
That I journeyed -- I journeyed down here! --
That I brought a dread burden down here --
On this night, of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber --
This misty mid region of Weir: --
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber --
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

 There is no season 

when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, 

and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings 

as now in October

 

The skies they were ashen and sober;

The leaves they were crisped and sere --

The leaves they were withering and sere;

It was night in the lonesome October

Of my most immemorial year:

 

the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples,

 the winey smell of ripened grapes, 

the wild-as-the-wind smell of hickory nuts,

 and the nostalgic whiff of that first wood smoke.

 October arrives in a swirl of fragrant blue leaf smoke, 

the sweetness of slightly frosted MacIntosh apples, 

and little hard acorns falling

 

the wind is rising, 

and the air is wild with leaves, 

we have had our summer evenings,

 now for October eves!

 

the wind is rising, 

and the air is wild with leaves, 

we have had our summer evenings,

 now for October eves!

 

Pale amber sunlight falls across
The reddening October trees,
That hardly sway before a breeze
As soft as summer: summer's loss
Seems little, dear! on days like these.

Let misty autumn be our part!
The twilight of the year is sweet:
Where shadow and the darkness meet
Our love, a twilight of the heart
Eludes a little time's deceit.

Are we not better and at home
In dreamful Autumn, we who deem
No harvest joy is worth a dream?
A little while and night shall come,
A little while, then, let us dream.

Beyond the pearled horizons lie
Winter and night: awaiting these
We garner this poor hour of ease,
Until love turn from us and die
Beneath the drear November trees

October

 

 

a swirl of fragrant blue leaf smoke, 

the sweetness of slightly frosted MacIntosh apples,

 and little hard acorns falling.

October

 

In the ancient Roman calendar, October was the name of the eighth month of the year. Its name comes from octo, the Latin word for “eight.” When the Romans converted to a 12-month calendar, they tried to rename this month after various Roman emperors, but October's name stuck 

October's birthstones are the tourmaline and opal.

 Its birth flower is the calendula.

 The zodiac signs are Libra (until October 22) and Scorpio (from October 23 onward)

 

October is its sunset sky; 

November the later twilight.

October

 

I have been younger in October than in all the months of spring.

There is no season as vibrant as fall. The sky, the leaves, and the landscape together create a symphony of colors. When you appreciate the things around you, you will find that you already have the most precious things in the world. A grateful heart will guide you to discover more wonders in life.

October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen.

In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October… – no days so calm, so tenderly solemn, and with such a reverent meekness in the air.

Listen! the wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves, we have had our summer evenings, now for October eves!

October, here’s to you. Here’s to the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples, the winey smell of ripened grapes, the wild-as-the-wind smell of hickory nuts, and the nostalgic whiff of that first wood smoke.

October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. 

October is its sunset sky; 

November the later twilight.

October arrives in a swirl of fragrant blue leaf smoke, the sweetness of slightly frosted MacIntosh apples, and little hard acorns falling.

There is no season when such pleasant and sunny spots may be lighted on, and produce so pleasant an effect on the feelings as now in October.

things to love about October

Crystal clear sky
Fallen leaves
Horror movies
Pumpkin spice latte
Halloween
Trick or Treat

 In the entire circle of the year 

there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October… 

no days so calm, 

so tenderly solemn, 

and with such a reverent meekness in the air

 October is the month for painted leaves. 

Their rich glow now flashes round the world. 

As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint

 just before they fall, 

so the year near its setting

 October

 the heady aroma of the frost-kissed apples, 

the winey smell of ripened grapes, 

the wild-as-the-wind smell of hickory nuts, 

and the nostalgic whiff of that first wood smoke