We’re having such a beautiful fall in New England. The trees have never been more brilliant, everybody around here agrees. Was planning to go out and take some photos for my blog but realize that nobody wants to see another foliage shot. So I decided, instead to post John Keats’, Ode to Autumn, which I learned recently was the last poem he ever wrote. It’s a beautiful poem, and maybe because when I read it this time, knowing he was soon to die, it seemed to be a little sad and foreboding. There’s all this abundance and ripe beauty, but the gathering swallows give me a chill.
We have had such wicked wildness these past few nights from our neighboring coyotes. The screeching and howling and yipping have driven my dogs nearly out of their minds. They’re out there now barking into the woods. Our dogs have an underground electric fence and the coyotes know exactly where the boundaries are and pace and sometimes sit just out of reach which makes the dogs insane with rage. I’ve seen this. Of course the elf is confined to a small fenced in area next to the house. The coyotes know she’s there and would gobble her up in an instant if they could. I love the sounds of the coyotes at night. Denis, the kids and I all do. It’s just so primitive and we love the way that one will start up with a thin wail and then what sounds like hundreds of others join in. And then they will carry on with all sorts of playful yips and yikes.
I found this great coyote soundboard online. Here’s what they sound like, except, often it sounds like they’re right under our window. Click on “Coyote Group” that’s what was going on last night, times 10.
Sometimes you just hear one vocalizing and it sounds like #3. I always imagine a Salem puritan hearing this noise and imagine it’s Goody Whatsherface from the neighboring farm, having a bit of mischief. It’s no wonder Halloween is in autumn. It’s so spooky in the country this time of year. Last fall, I took my horse to Steep Rock every day that it didn’t rain and the way the light changes so suddenly and the wind whips things out of nowhere had my horse and me both a little spooked, and we also kind of thrilled at the spookiness. And we kept coming across odd characters. With the leaves off the trees, everything sounds different and the river is high in the fall and sometimes you imagine you hear somebody right behind you, but when you turn, nobody’s there. Real “Legend of Sleepy Hollow” stuff. I love it.
So here’s Keats’ poem, Ode to Autumn:
SEASON of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease;
For Summer has o’erbrimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river-sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Okay, never having been around coyotes, I clicked on the sound to check it out …. and ended up with my dog howling!
They’ll do that. The coyotes even bring the “Call of the Wild” out of our tiny Chihuahua, and she tilts back her head and let’s out the most pathetic, high-pitched girlie howl you’ve ever heard. It’s like the trilling of a song bird, really, and she thinks she’s some kind of wolf when she does it.
Please tell me that the excerpt I just read from your husband’s new book regarding autism children being just “lazy”, “stupid” or “both” is taken out of context.
That was your best blog yet, thanks for sharing. Loved the sound effects, such a perfect fall visual.
Hi Caroline, I believe it was but will let him defend himself. I think he’s making a response to the NY Post about how he believes they must not have read the book if that’s what they printed.
I can relate to your experiences with your preemie. My now 26 y.o. twins were preemies due to early labor brought on by their father going into ICU after an accident.
Multiply that experience by AT LEAST a thousand and you’ll begin to understand the pain, challenge and joys of raising my 18 y.o. son who has Autism. A book I could recommend to your family is ” The Curious Incident of the Dog In the Nighttime”. It’s a novel by an Englishman who worked with Autistic kids and really gets to the heart of it all.
I am assuming your husband meant to rant about the over diagnosed condition of “attention deficit disorder” and the Ritalin which is over prescribed to children who are merely stuck in a failing school system with no recess or arts programs. That makes sense.
Sincerely, Risa
Usually a fan (along with my “idiot” son)
Next time I want to listen to the coyote group – I will definitely put my Shelties OUTSIDE!
Like Lisa’s dog, my 4 Shelties went tearing from window to window looking for them, doing their own group songs! Wish I could record them and send you a link – too funny!
Thanks for the sounds and the lovely peom, I envy your fall days up north. Down here in Texas everything is just dried up and DEAD! Not very pretty, but I DO look forward to the cooler days…
My dog goes mad on that telly show some guy raising wolves. i cant remember name of it but now he is trying to teach his woman how to live and raise wolves also.
I also live in a coyote area and my pack is always howling along with the coyotes. I’m almost certain one of my mutts has coyote blood in him. I found him in the barn, shivering and skinny, when he was just a little furball, so I haven’t an idea about his background.
And, I love all your poetry posts! It introduces me to such wonderful poems. I’m jealous of the New England fall; I miss the area so much. Sometimes while riding my horse, I’ll close my eyes and imagine my old surroundings. Reading Keats’ poem transports me back to a world where autumn actually exists.
Beautifull poem and right for this time of year!
Please do tell more about the spooky things you experienced on your ride. Your description of the wind and the changing light gave me a delicious shiver.Halloween is my favorite holiday and fall my favorite season. And who were the odd characters you kept comming across ? Maybe a witch peeking from behind the tree or a lost spirit wandering the trails. With New England being one of the first settled areas in the states I would think it would be very alive with ghostly activity. In fact I thought I remembered hearing either you or Denis imagined your own farmhouse was haunted. Now have a good night and just ignore those footsteps from the empty room over head.LOL.