A Literate Post.

Pied Beauty
By Gerard Manley Hopkins

 
Glory be to God for dappled things –
   For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
      For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
   Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
      And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
   Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
      With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
                                Praise him. 
Poetry Foundation

I thought of this as I crossed into the park this afternoon.  The light was dappling everything and a very summery outlook lay all around, even though this is Autumn.  You can tell it's Autumn by the leaves lying around, and the rain to come next week will no doubt bring them all down.  The dappled leaves and trees were attractive and I wished to make the most of them before they disappear for the winter.