“Now begins the cataract of autumn, slow dulling of light, the peripheral hedges and fences come sharper into sight.
Now begins the knowing without seeing, floorboards like memory laid out underfoot. Now begins the needlework, stitching one morning to another, dawn to sunset to dawn, the lace days gap-toothed with loss. Now begins the darkness, ticking of kettle aching for the boil, the cross hatch of hour across hour of night, the drum of wind along the slate roof keeping time, this endless waiting for light.”
Marjorie Lotfi - Gather In.
Ernest Biéler - The Leaf Gatherer, 1863–1948.
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