I remember when I was a young witch sitting at my desk in witch school learning poems about Autumn. One by John Keats, I remember him well, was called To Autumn and started:
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;”
I never did learn any more of it. Like most witchkins we got as far as the word “bosom” and dissolved into gales of laughter and our teacher lost all control of the class and ran out of the room screaming. We were awfully naughty witchkins. Are you? Awfully naughty? You might write to me and tell me some of the things you do that make your mom mad! I love those sorts of things, especially in Autumn, and especially in October.
Today was a perfect autumn day. It rained and then the sun came out and then it rained some more and there was more sun and all in all it went on like that until the stars came out. The leaves are starting to turn brown and the oak leaves with their bendy shapes are already on the ground.
I like autumn. I can use my broomstick and build piles of leaves. And then jump in them!