Misadventures of the Monster Librarian

"October" O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; One from our trees, one far away. Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes’ sake, if they were all, Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, Whose clustered fruit must else be lost— For the grapes’ sake along the wall. --Robert Frost I know I've shared this poem here before, but it's one of my favorite poems and I love to reread it every year, multiple time a year....

Maybe it's because it's getting colder out, people shuffle around at night, heads hang-dogged against the brisk October winds; maybe it's the sounds of leaves skittering across roads, the sounds of defrocked bushes shaking hollowly; maybe it's the shorter days making long nights and the deep dark of this time of year...Whatever it is, I have always (yes, even as an adult) found October to be the creepy month. I love October, love the spookiness I still feel, love the ever-emptying trees even more, love the deep crispness of the air and the smell of dried leaves and bonfires. And as a child I loved and was terrified by Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. So, wrap yourself in a blanket, sit back, put you feet up on your desk and listen to the whole tale here .  Joanna Barnum, Illustrator, http://www.joannabarnum.com/  Thanks Jenna at ColdAntlerFarm , hope you don't mind me borrowing your idea!

"October" O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; One from our trees, one far away. Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes' sake, if they were all, Whose leaves already are burnt with frost, Whose clustered fruit must else be lost-- For the grapes' sake along the wall. -- Robert Frost Every October I think of Frost's "October;" I think of 11th grade English and my teacher, Mr. K.; a younger me memorizing this poem. I can see it so clearly; laying on my bed, "Mother Nature's Son," p...