Reason clears and plants the wilderness of the imagination to harvest the wheat of art.
Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.
If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection. It's a time of year when the leaves are down and the harvest is in and the perennials are gone. Mother Earth just closed up the drapes on another year and it's time to reflect on what's come before.
For believe me: the secret for harvesting from existence the greatest fruitfulness and greatest enjoyment is - to live dangerously.
For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad.
Who would have guessed it possible that waiting is sustainable. A place with its own harvest.
Autumn is the bite of the harvest apple.