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Fall

 

"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf's a flower."
Albert Camus

 

 

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost

   

 

 

 

Fun For Fall

http://geocities.com/holidayzone/autumn/index.html

-Arts, crafts, games, language arts, art, songs, and action rhymes

http://photoscience.la.asu.edu/photosyn/education/colorchange.html

-Why do leaves change color in the fall?

http://www.brainpop.com/

-Go to the Science section to view the Autumn leaves mini-film

http://www.educationworld.com/holidays/archives/autumn_2000.shtml

-Many fall activities/lessons

http://www.busyteacherscafe.com/resources/september_resources.htm

-Poems, songs, word search, leaf activities, etc.

http://www.busyteacherscafe.com/teacherlinks/seasonal_links.htm

-September activities

 http://abcteach.com/search.php?q=autumn

-Leaf sun catchers project and writing activities

 http://abcteach.com/search.php?q=fall

-Fall patterns and leaves poem

 http://www.edhelper.com/Autumn.htm

-By grade level: fall math, reading comprehensions and puzzles

http://www.eduplace.com/monthlytheme/september/fall_activities.html

-By grade level: theme fall: science, social studies, math, art and  language arts

http://www.teachingheart.net/afallunit.html

-Book suggestions, poems, glyph, songs, fingerplays and math ideas

http://www.theteachersguide.com/falllessonplans.htm

-Fall similes, leaf activities, puzzles, bulletin board ideas and crafts

 

AFTER APPLE-PICKING

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing dear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

Robert Frost

 

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