A Woodland In Full Color Is Awesome

Autumn Is The Eternal Corrective. It Is Ripeness And Color And A Time Of Maturity; But It Is Also Breadth, And Depth, And Distance. What Man Can Stand With Autumn On A Hilltop And Fail To See The Span Of His World And The Meaning Of The Rolling Hills That Reach To The Far Horizon?

There Are No Idealists In The Plant World And No Compassion. The Rose And The Morning Glory Know No Mercy. Bindweed, The Morning Glory, Will Quickly Choke Its Competitors To Death, And The Fencerow Rose Will Just As Quietly Crowd Out Any Other Plant That Tried To Share Its Roothold. Idealism And Mercy Are Human Terms And Human Concepts.

A Root, A Stem, A Leaf, Some Means Of Capturing Sunlight And Air And Making Food - In Sum, A Plant. The Green Substance Of This Earth, The Chlorophyll, Is All Summed Up In The Plants. Without Them We Perish, All Of Us Who Are Flesh And Blood.

October Is The Fallen Leaf, But It Is Also A Wider Horizon More Clearly Seen.

All Man Has To Do Is Cooperate With The Big Forces, The Sun, The Rain, The Growing Urge. Seeds Sprout, Stems Grow, Leaves Spread In The Sunlight. Man Plants, Weeds, Cultivates And Harvests. It Sounds Simple, And It Is Simple, With The Simplicity Of Great Truths.