Many gardeners feel that autumn is a season of regrets. This feeling has been expressed by the old Chinese poet, Lu Yun, in the line "At the fall of the year there is autumn in my heart." :The fall months of September, October and November might be likened to three sisters' endowed with diminishing amounts of this world's goods. September's glory is inherited from summer. October decks herself in a cloak of scarlet and gold for her final festive days of Indian summer; but naught is left November save some gaudy berries, the last bits of old family jewelry, and the laces woven by the branches and twigs against the winter sky.