Yin and Yang. The black bluestone blocks of the kerb and the
paperthin leaves coming to rest, piling up in ever shifting mounds on the
streetside. The blocks hewn once and for all from deep gorges in the ground
along the banks of Merri Creek, the leaves only one season old and already cast
adrift.
This afternoon the radio played “Autumn Leaves” sung by Nat
King Cole. As I drove home I thought of songs and poetry inspired by autumn.
Although yesterday was the first of May , when spring explodes in Europe (Karel
Hynek Macha’s famous lines always linger in my mind when this day comes along
or when I hear the date said: Byl prvni Maj, byl lasky cas –the first of May,
the time of love… ), here in the southern hemisphere it is the time of the
shortening days, the oblique rays, the melancholy shadows and timid light.
Even my students, compelled to learn poems about the heavy
fruits, the dying leaves and the clattering of the flags, must have got an
insight... perhaps.
