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I
borrowed this painting’s title from a poem by James Whitcomb Riley called, When the Frost is on the Punkin. If you can get past the dialect he writes in,
he paints pictures with words of beautiful fall mornings. For example:
They’s
something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere
When
the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—
Of
course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And
the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;
But
the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze
Of
a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is
a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—
When
the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.
Happy Weekend!
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