Mellow fruitfulness (again!)

I must thank blog-readers Shirlwin and Betsy for directing me to the poem by John Keats "Ode to Autumn" for the reference to "Time of mists and mellow fruitfulness". I was unfamiliar with the poem till now.  I do love Autumn, though for me there is always a sadness because of the departing summer and the onset of Winter. I've come to accept the seasons much more in later years. It's all part of the circle of life.  But Spring and Summer will always be my favourite seasons!

However, this verse particularly strikes me:

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? 
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,— 
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day
 And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; 
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
 Among the river-sallows, borne aloft
 Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; 
 And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
 Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft 
 The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft; 
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Ode to Autumn, J Keats

The light is definitely changing now. I really noticed this on my walk along the shore yesterday.

Button sitting rather impatiently by an old winch at the old Sandside Pier, tide is in, the grass green after the recent rain, and the Hoy hills in the background.

This old wooden boat is a favourite subject of mine.

It's full of old creels and ....bulrushes!