Adventures in Rhinebeck
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The Golden Time (but you know what that means. . .)

We've reached it.

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The Golden Time.

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Although the neon reds and oranges are really magical, it's the golden color of fall that steals my heart.

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My own gardens are glowing gold now.


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Pretty much everywhere I look.


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It's a melancholy time.  The garden is finished for another season.  It's time to move inside; time to hunker down against darkness and cold.  I'm pretty much ready now.

(Because . . . nothing gold can stay.)

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Nothing Gold Can Stay*

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

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*This was the first poem I ever loved.  (Thanks, Ponyboy.)

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