Quotes About Transition

The change always comes about mid-August, and it always catches me by surprise. I mean the day when I know that summer is fraying at the edges, that September isn't far off and fall is just over the hill or up the valley.

Besides the autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the haze...

Autumn is the season of change.

There are two times of year: autumn and waiting for autumn.

...the world reveals itself in its true dimensions in the Autumn...

"I'm dreading fall. It is a terrifying season," he says... "Everything shriveling up and dying." I don't know how to answer. Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale. I've never thought to be frightened of it.

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day! Every leaf speaks bliss to me, Fluttering from the autumn tree...

shorter days seem a little ominous shadows are becoming autumn'ish

Autumn is the hush before winter.

Autumn is Spring turned antique.

in the wheel of Earth's years we watch as Autumn's clock tick-tocks in tiny goldenrod September petal'd seconds frosty trees bleed scarlet hours through veins of October leaves amber minutes wither and fall drifting in November's breeze and the silent strike of midwinter turns December's snowflake gears

The edge of autumn frosts with winter's chilled breath.

Autumn leaves blaze their swan song of colors and wait for Winter to wipe the slate clean.

Winter dies into the spring, to be born again in the autumn.

Autumn will come whether or not you enjoyed summer.

Leaves, questioned by winter, fall.

In the desert, the slow quiet entrance of autumn is like breathing a sigh of relief — exhaling all the hot, stifling air built up over summer.

We want it to stay, but autumn always leaves. Beautifully.

When you're used to hearing purring and suddenly it's gone, it's hard to silence the blaring sound of sadness.

There were no violins or warning bells... no sense that my little life was about to change. But we never know, do we? Life turns on a dime.

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.

When the winds of change blow, some people build walls and others build windmills.

If we gaze at the clouds, then close our eyes for a few minutes, then re-open them and the clouds are different, we don't freak out about it. So, why do we worry when things shift and change in our lives? New day, new sky, every moment too.

We may as well make friends with Change — the instant the Moon is full it's already starting to wane