Happy Fall

190 years and three days ago, John Keats wrote his "Ode to Autumn," and, while the astronomical equinox isn't until tomorrow, it's a nice way to start the week. Here's the first stanza; you can read the rest of it here.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun

Conspiring with him how to load and bless

With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;

To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,

And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells

With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,

And still more, later flowers for the bees,

Until they think warm days will never cease,

For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.