"Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt."

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Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?

— Hal Borland