This is the second stanza from Robert Frost’s poem Gathering Leaves, a very seasonal poem. I have been raking and making piles of leaves at home. And last week, when I did an autumn hike with my friend, I made a lot of rustling noises walking through the yellow birch and aspen leaves that decorated the ground. I took the above picture from the trail of which I’ll write a wee description shortly.
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Such beautiful Birch trees!