100 years ago in COUNTRY LIFE
October 7, 1916
O me autumn is glorious, brilliant, defiant, but not melancholy. There is a grandeur in the trees in their autumnal leaves that banishes the thought of decay, and tells only of a task well done. All the spring and summer through they did their work of sheltering the nesting birds, and casting shadows on the grass for the comfort of man and beast. Now the nests of spring are empty; nestlings have left the safe protection of the thick leaves, and, grown to full estate, have long since winged their way into the wider world.