For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together. For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. – Edwin Way Teale, Autumn Across America
Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. – Charles Dickens, Bleak House