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My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Daily Cascade
Since my old blog "Everyday Canvas Open in new Window. became overfilled, here's a new one. This new blog item will continue answering prompts, the same as the old one.


Cool water cascading to low ground
To spread good will and hope all around.


image for blog


September 17, 2024 at 11:40am
September 17, 2024 at 11:40am
#1076908
Prompt:
What are your least favorite and the most favorite parts of an autumn day and why?


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We have no "autumn day" where I live. In fact, we get no autumn here. Today is the seventeenth of September and it is more than 90 degrees outside; inside, I have the AC on.

Still, when we lived up in New England, autumn used to be my most favorite season. Then, since in autumn, ragweed and other weed spores caused all kinds of havoc in immune systems, and no matter what the doctors did for mine, they couldn't cure that ragweed allergy out of my system. That part of autumn was my least favorite time every single day, until my allergies escalated to serious asthma and we decided to move to the part of the country where ragweed would not grow or at least, where it was scarce. Even so, a northern autumn day will always stay as a favorite in my heart and memory.

My most favorite part of autumn up north was the changing colors on leaves and the leaf piles and the crunching sounds mixed with the sounds of laughter as my kids jumped on them up and down. Then, I also loved every single "good" autumn day. So, let me talk about such a day.

Such a day began with crisp morning air when I stepped outside into the backyard and was greeted by a gentle and cool, and at times, quite cold breeze. It was fresh and invigorating, in addition to the scent of the earth and the fallen leaves, and I would watch the early rays of sunlight filtering through the tall trees on our backyard.

As the sun hung lower in the sky and the day progressed, then those fabulous colors would be highlighted even more vividly. Later in the afternoon, a gentle warmth would envelop me as the sun chased away the morning chill. It was the perfect time for outdoor activities and hot cider or a pumpkin spice latte, to accompany the woodsmoke from the fireplaces.

When the day would draw close, with the sky taking on soft pinks and purples, reflecting off the remaining leaves on the trees. Soon, a glowing sunset framed by tree branches would let me know that this glorious day was over and I would prepare to settle in for the night.

To me, such a day invited reflection, comfort, and a deep connection to nature. Yet, it only lasted a very short time, during the first half of my life.




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