that indescribable blue of autumn

I took a long walk north of the town, out into the pastures where the land was so rough that it had never been ploughed up, and the long red grass of early times still grew shaggy over the draws and hillocks. Out there I felt at home again. Overhead the sky was that indescribable blue of autumn; bright and shadowless, hard as enamel. To the south I could see the dun-shaded river bluffs that used to look so big to me, and all about stretched drying cornfields, of the pale-gold colour, I remembered so well. Russian thistles were blowing across the uplands and piling against the wire fences like barricades. Along the cattle-paths the plumes of goldenrod were already fading into sun-warmed velvet, grey with gold threads in it.

willa cather


  1. One of my favorite books...and favorite writers. The year I moved to NYC (1976) I read every one of her novels. Time to revisit them.

  2. Today is my birthday, and in my mind, the beginning of autumn.
    I long for that blue colour like mad, despite the fact that it will still be summer here for another month or two.

  3. you have just reminded me
    why the deep blue sky
    sans shadow
    had me watching all week...
    a navy sky
    with matching sea