John Keats

I really enjoyed many of the works by John Keats. One of my favorites was the poem "To Autumn". He magnified the brilliance of a season. In our lives we go through the seasons every year. However, many of us do not think of them the way Keats thought about Autumn. "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; conspiring with him how to load and bless with fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run" (P. 443). These are the first few lines and I think they were beautifully written. Autumn is a season when it is a little misty outside, especially in the mornings. Close bosom-friend of the sun was a great way to describe how the sun shines during this season and everything turns to colors of the sun. The leaves turn shades of yellow, red, brown, and orange. The sun also helps to grow the fruit that is produced on the vines during this time of year. In later lines he mentions all fruit with ripeness to the core, such as apples. Keats brings out other thing that exist in nature during this time of year. He mentions the bees that still swarm the flowers after summer, the wind that often blows through your hair in the fall, and sweet kernels. "Steady thy laden head across a brook; or by a cyder-press, with patient look, Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours." It is as if Keats pictures himself in the middle of Autumn and recounts his observations. He watches the calm streams and trees with patience as he explores the nature around him. Nature can produce a lot within just a few hours if we take time to explore it. I enjoyed the last set of line as well because he mentions that the small gnats mourn and hedge-crickets sing. Especially in the south, gnats are really out during the summer and may start to fade a little during the end of autumn months when it begins to get a little chilly. Those gnats can really be a pest when you are trying to have an outside event. I have often tried to sleep at night and I could hear a cricket chirping, at it always sounds like it is right under my window. However, they are so loud that it could be anywhere outside. He also talks about the red-breast which I find red birds to be some of the prettiest birds. My grandmother always blew three kisses for good luck when she saw a red bird. This poem just made me picture myself outside in the midst of autumn, looking at the colorful leaves fall from the trees.