When I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
– Robert Frost
Lonely benches have a lot to say. Nice shot and words.
Hi Harrie, they sure do.
Thank you :).
Nice ending to that poem, one of which I had not read by Frost. Thanks for sharing that and your beautiful evening image!
Hi Brett, thank you. I’m glad you liked the poem. I enjoy his work very much :).
The clouds in this sunset were part of the storm that produced the tornadoes that swept through Illinois last Sunday.
It was a beautiful, swirly sky.
Have a great Sunday.
With your camera set to a 10 second delay shutter speed with it sitting on top of a tripod you could have walked over and sat on the end of the bench in silhouette. I love the sky, full of colour and moody.
Hi Clive 🙂
I’m not much on blog self portraits, but that’s a wonderful idea and one I’ll keep in mind for the future! Better yet, find someone else to sit on the bench………yes, that would be so lovely in silhouette.
Don’t know if you heard, but our part of the Midwest was recently pummeled with destructive tornadoes. This shot (and “pink light”) are from the same system that did terrible damage about an hour from here.
Thanks for your great comment!