Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Yes, indeed. November’s got this farm wife feeling melancholy. This time of year is cold, gray, and somehow urges me to eat chocolate. Things are dreary now, but I’m looking forward to snow (this is the ONLY time in the year you’ll hear me say that!) and the holidays. Bring on Christmas.