It's fall in Leuven

We’ve had a bit of an Indian summer this past week, and dressing the boys in shorts & t-shirts in the mornings I had forgotten what season it is, however this morning as I raced down the hill on my bike; the cold gusts of fall rattling the trees, making the brown, red & yellow leaves fly everywhere, reminded me that it is indeed fall.

The Husband has taught the boys a poem, and they recite it with such rhythm and delight, that every time I think of the seasons changing, I hear their pretty voices:

In winter when the fields are white
I sing a song to your delight

In spring when the woods are getting green
perhaps I’ll tell you what they mean

In summer when the days are long
perhaps you’ll understand my song

In autumn when the leaves are brown
take pen & ink and write it down

By Lovain