Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou see’st the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west;
Which by and by black night doeth take away
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire,
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed, whereon it must expire,
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.
This thou perciev’st, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.
Shakespeare, of course, was meditating on death (at age 36!) but to me the images of boughs shaking in the cold, ruin’d choirs, and fading sunset are literally the images of the coming of winter. My ruined choirs are not the ruins of dissolved churches and monasteries, but the bare trees bereft of the songbirds who have all flown to more salubrious climes. In every season, I love the fields, woods and skies of our little town of Heath, and hope not to leave ere long.
More Muse Day postings at Sweet Home and Garden Chicago.
Hi Pat, such a thought provoking post. There is indeed beauty in every season, even the bare bones on winter. The skies grab out attention, and the birds, all wonder making.
Frances
I’ve been watching the skies change also– you can see the subtle changes from fall to winter. Though I always tire of the cold after a couple of months, I love the beauty of winter.
Pat, I’ve always loved this sonnet by Shakespeare. As you say, he was contemplating death, but the average life expectancy back then was probably 45, wasn’t it? But there’s the message of love, too, and it certainly applies to our love of nature and the seasons. There is a beauty in the bare trees, especially covered in snow, or the trees reaching skyward as shown in your beautiful photo.
Great post! Thanks for visiting me.
Great selection from my favorite bard. Thanks for adding your special touch to Garden Bloggers’ Muse Day.
Frances, Wonder making indeed. At every season.
Brenda Jean, we have magnificent skies here in Heath. If we hadn’t named our place End of the Road Farm it would have been Sky Farm.
Rose,You are right. Mortality would have been on people’s minds at a relatively young age.
Carolyn gail – thank you!