When on the breath of Autumn’s breeze,
From pastures dry and brown,
Goes floating, like an idle thought,
The fair, white thistle-down;
O, then what joy to walk at will,
Upon the golden harvest hill!
~Mary Howitt-Corn Fields
This is one of my favorite finds while Tanner and I were walking one evening. I’m sure most people will post gorgeous trees or colorful leaves. And I heart those too…but the monochromatic color of dried seed pods, thistle down and flowering grasses are equally striking…if you look close enough.