“Fall fever is (in our case at any rate) more
insidious than the familiar disease of spring. Spring fever impels us to get
out in the country; to seize a knotted cudgel and a pouchful of tobacco and
agitate our limbs over the landscape. But the drowsiness of autumn is a
lethargy in the true sense of that word—a forgetfulness. A forgetfulness of
past discontents and future joys; a forgetfulness of toil that is gone and
leisure to come; a mere breathing existence in which one stands vacantly eyeing
the human scene, living in a gentle simmer of the faculties like a boiling
kettle when the gas is turned low.” —Christopher Morley, “Fall Fever,” in Pipefuls
(1920)
(The photograph was taken at the creek near my house
in Englewood, NJ.)
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