The morning sunshine poured into the library through ten long narrow windows; birds were singing; the autumn air, rich with a faint aroma of November melancholy that stung the imagination pleasantly, filled my antechamber.
The Damned, Algernon Blackwood
Autumn nears us slowly, and though it is only August, the refreshing crispness of the last few days inspires me to post this quote from Blackwood, who brought beauty even to the most ghostly stories.
I love it when summer becomes wistful and melancholy. The colors seem more raw and golden in the morning and you can almost smell change in the air. We are receiving an early gift in the Mid-Atlantic this year.
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