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When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark
Makes its mark
On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves
Over fallen leaves;
Then my olden garden, where the golden soil
Through the toil
Of a hundred years is mellow, rich, and deep,
Whispers in its sleep.

[First verse of Autumn In The Garden by Henry Van Dyke]

Autumn... I am an autumn born child, so it does not wonder that I love this season most: its clear air, the wonderfully colored leave, the spicy flavor, misty mornings, sparkling spider webs in the morning dew, the harvest moon and cold starry nights. There is a special magic in it all. It is the time for ghosts and witches, and for lost souls, conjuring memories of a time long gone by.


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Blue Lagoon Canyon

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Fen   Palace Garden