
Harvest moon
Ripe for the picking
Bleeds though cotton field clouds
I pull the fluffy lint of the year
Try to avoid more cuts
From the sharp end of summer
As worse weather looms.
Harvest moon
Ripe for the picking
Bleeds though cotton field clouds
I pull the fluffy lint of the year
Try to avoid more cuts
From the sharp end of summer
As worse weather looms.
I posted Neil Young’s birthday just so I could air that song.
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Sweet. Did you get to see it, by chance? Ours was sadly mummified by clouds, but I have many memories of that moon.
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Powerful vivid descriptions of the changing seasons. Beautifully written, K!
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Thank you. I love the temperature limboing here. It makes me ready for sweaters and warm tea in the forest. 😊
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A lovely ode to seasons passing, and to what feels like ominous times ahead. The harvest moon was extra poignant in this part of the country this year, as the loca forest fires made for what amounted to a blood moon. Lovely write, K.
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Oh, how haunting, Jeff. I remember it’s golden glory, but sadly we missed it due to the swaddling clouds. Those fires must be frightening for everyone. Hope the cooking season brings relief for those.
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It was quite haunting and paradoxically beautiful. Ah, we often miss moon events due to clouds, I totally understand. Ah, indeed, the cooling has begun, and has been a welcome respite.
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Windows open here. It’s a wonderful feeling…to fall, that is. I look forward to it every year.
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beautiful and haunting —
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Thank you, John. The clouds really smothered it here this year, but it’s usually a most memorable moon.
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I adore Lord Huron!
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Ditto. I had a chance to see them in Maryland, but it didn’t work with my schedule. Ha e you see. them love? Maybe next season.
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No, I’ve not had the opportunity to see them yet.
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