A writer inspired by nature and human nature

Posts tagged ‘Autumn’


Autumn’s Lament HAIKU by Bette A. Stevens

Autumn’s Lament

Haiku by Bette A. Stevens, Maine author/illustrator

AUTUMN LAMENT Haiku bas 2015

By late November autumn’s vibrant deciduous tree leaves have settled in for the soon-to-arrive Maine winter, ready to read their own bedtime stories for a season. At least that’s the tale they told me. ~ Bette A. Stevens

[Explore Bette’s Blog]


Celebrate the Season with ‘DOG BONE SOUP’: Grab it for only 99¢ from October 3~7

First, you can read “An Apple Picking” excerpt from DOG BONE SOUP by Bette A. Stevens right here.
Only 99¢ for the whole story from October 3—7!

“The other America, the America of poverty, is hidden today in a way that it never was before.  Its millions are socially invisible to the rest of us.” — Michael Harrington
DBS Apple Picking Excerpt bas

DOG BONE SOUP by Bette A. Stevens
ONLY 99¢
for 5 days: October 3—7
Grab a copy today on YOUR AMAZON!

DOG BONE SOUP is a fictional story of the survival and the triumph of a boy who overcomes the odds of repeating the pattern of poverty in his own life back in the 1950s and 60s, an era when most families were living The American Dream.

Unfortunately, DOG BONE SOUP is as relevant today as it was in the 1950s and 60s. Fortunately, we do have the opportunity to change these statistics today. As caring and concerned adults, we can all make a difference—one child at a time.

Meanwhile, savor “An Apple Picking Excerpt” from DOG BONE SOUP

Right after school the next day, Willie and I grabbed two empty bushel baskets and headed over to Alvina’s place. We planned to fill ’em up over the tops.

“Hi, Mrs. Stevens,” I said when she opened the door.

“What on God’s green earth do you two want?”

“Saw your trees out there with branches tippin’ to the ground. Wondered if we could pick some apples. If you like, we’ll pick some for you too.”

“Hell, no! Those apples are mine and they ain’t goin’ to some white trash that lives down the road. I’ll have ’em rot before the likes of you gets a one. Now, get the hell out of here and don’t come back. My shotgun’s standin’ in the corner and I’m not afraid to use it. Now, git!”

We trudged back to the Buick, drove the quarter mile home and headed out to the garden to see what we could rustle up—a bushel of onions, a bushel of potatoes, half a bushel of carrots and fourteen Hubbards.

“Gotta head out to pick Mum up, Willie. You lug in the water and have the girls feed the chickens.”

Told Mum about it all soon as she slammed the Buick’s door.

Mum braided the onions and hung them down the basement so they wouldn’t rot. She had Willie line the Hubbards up around the edge of the kitchen floor without touching to keep them from rotting.

“I don’t think we have much grain left for the chickens and we can’t afford to buy any. Drive down by Bull’s Butcher after school tomorrow and get us as many dog bones as he’ll let you have. I can do a lot with those bones.”

So there we were, back to those god-awful stinkin’ dog bones. Mum boiled a big pot of ’em up that night. She scraped off what little meat was on them and separated out the fat to fry. We ate the crispings with our fingers. The meat scraps went back into the kettle with carrots, onions and potatoes and that was our supper for weeks on end.

Still, I had a plan.

“Hey Willie, let’s head over to Alvina’s after dark. We’ll park this side of her place, sneak into the orchard and snitch us some apples. We can lug ’em back to the Buick and Alvina’ll be none the wiser. What do you say?”

“You bet!” Willie was rarin’ to go.

Tell your friends all about it…

And don’t forget to grab your copy of DOG BONE SOUP for only 99¢ at YOUR AMAZON today!

Let’s all throw kindness around like confetti! ~Bette A. Stevens, Maine author

DOG BONE SOUP on kindle 2



Author Bio

BAS Author logo stamp 2015Inspired by nature and human nature, author Bette A. Stevens is a retired elementary and middle school teacher, a wife, mother of two and grandmother of five. Stevens lives in Central Maine with her husband on their 37-acre farmstead where she enjoys writing, gardening, walking and reveling in the beauty of nature. She advocates for children and families, for childhood literacy and for the conservation of monarch butterflies—an endangered species (and milkweed, the only plant that monarch caterpillars will eat).

Stevens is the author of AMAZING MATILDA, an award-winning picture book; The Tangram Zoo and Word Puzzles Too!, a home/school resource incorporating hands-on math and writing; and PURE TRASH, the short story prequel to her début novel, DOG BONE SOUP, a Boomer’s coming of age novel published in January 2015.

DOG BONE SOUP by Bette A. Stevens
“Throw kindness around like confetti!”
ONLY 99¢
for 5 days: October 3—7
Grab a copy today on YOUR AMAZON!

[Explore Bette’s Blog]


Past Peak: an autumn haiku by Bette A. Stevens

Past Peak: Autumn Haiku by BAS 2014


POETRY: Seasonal Changes

The Wonder of It All

A few flitting monarch butterflies and my favorite fall asters will soon dissipate into grand memories awaiting reincarnation.

Final Performance for 2014 posts

As we expect this dawn of change, shimmering monarchs are heading south to aggregate  in the warmth of southern groves. Meanwhile, I’m settling in for the evening with wood stove ablaze—I think I hear autumn’s tendrils softly tapping at the door. I close my to dream of butterflies and dancing blooms.

Although summer is coming to an all-too-soon close here in Central Maine, fall is sure to welcome us anew with its shimmering colors too.

Blessings to you at the close of one grand season and the opening of another! ~ Bette A. Stevens


198. Autumn is the dim shadow that clusters about the sweet precious things that God created in the realm of nature. ~Northern Advocate

Bette A. Stevens:

A perfect pairing! ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com


Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

That soft autumnal time…
The year’s last, loveliest smile,
Thou comest to fill with hope the human heart,
And strengthen it to bear the storms a while,
Till winter days depart…

Far in a shelter’d nook
I’ve met, in these calm days, a smiling flower,
A lonely aster, trembling by a brook…
~John Howard Bryant


In autumn the Maker’s pigments turn from the soft pastels of springtime to emboldened, jewel tones.  Glad witnesses are we to the green leaves on shining sumac, flowering dogwoods, Bradford pears, sweet gums, Shumard oaks, and crape myrtles changing to mixtures of burgundy, crimson, orange, and gold.  Other treats are setting buds for next year’s blossoms among the fiery red, ripening fruits of the dogwoods, and the deeper shades of blues and pinks that adorn the thickened petals of hydrangeas.  And if that is not enough to make the year smile, there are the willow…

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ARTISTRY an autumn poem by Bette A. Stevens


Autumm's Artistry

Autumn Gold

Originally posted on catnipoflife:

A touch of impromptu catnip from a morning drive. . .

your leaves shalt not wither

before illuminating my soul


“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.”
 ~George Eliot

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Autumn Morning in Maine (poetry)

On my nature walks, I sometimes take a small pad and pencil and jot down word picture nuggets for my poems. Bette A. Stevens

September Morning

North winds whisk the clouds away

Towering  trees in fall array

Purples, golds an firy reds

All throughout Maine’s forests spread

Brook’s a place where minnows play

Dart past leaves that drift and sway

Bluejays chat, expounding tales

Of summer past and coming gales

Starched white towers climb the sky

Reminding all that autumn’s nigh

– Bette Stevens (copyright 9/22/2012)


Originally posted on Sputterpub's Blog:

Already autumn seasons us, with darts
of scarlet fallen leaves and crispy air.
The nights befall us earlier. It starts
to hint of winter brevity. Compare
the light at 6 PM to just three weeks
ago, and note the recent rain that made
adobe-colored gutter water, leaks
in old garages, rivulets of shade.

Already fall approaches. I should fix
the broken, reinforce the frail, replace
with prudence and prepare myself for six
months on the other side, but I’ve a pace
too skewed right now – intention aimed elsewhere,
exposed to elements of self-repair.

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