In Spring I always think 'Lovliest of trees the cherry now'. In Autum n- as Tom always tries to be first to remind us - it is 'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness'. And at this season - as someone (Thelma?) told us - it was this Thomas Hardy:
This is the weather the shepherd shuns
and so do I.
When beeches drip in browns and duns
and thresh and ply.
And hill-hid tides throb throe and throe
And meadow rivulets overflow,
and drops on gate bars hang in a row,
and rooks in families homeward go ....
And so do I.
My sentiments exactly but Thomas Hardy can say it better and in so fewer words. It was only as the rooks passed over late afternoon in the pouring rain - a bedraggled lot - that I was reminded of it. No-one can say it better