A Blast from the Past

As a slight crispness can be felt in the air, and Summer is falling away, I found this autumnal photo taken by an old friend, Alfred Galindo, of Highbridge Park in upper Manhattan. (In fact, he took the photo on Christmas Eve, 2006).

Thinking of Fall, some lines of Lord Byron's came to mind, a blast from another past:

My days are in the yellow leaf; 
The flowers and fruits of love are gone; 
The worm, the canker, and the grief, 
Are mine alone! 

The fire that on my bosom preys 
Is lone as some volcanic isle; 
No torch is kindled at its blaze - 
A funeral pile!