"It was November--
the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad
hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.
Anne roamed through the pineland alleys in the park,
and as she said, let that great sweeping wind blow the
fogs out of her soul."
Oh, what a tangled web we
weave when life becomes far, far too complicated. My lack of inspiration
created a late October post that was booted straight into the compost bin. The
emotional distress I often feel when my life is tangled with another life that
rubs me raw doesn’t cause as much writer’s block as it creates a feeling of
despair that hinders me from moving forward.
During those times I seek peace, often isolating myself to let my soul
heal. I’m
often surprised that I have lived this long, but I wish to outlive my two cats,
then I will be at peace. Sounds corny, doesn't it.
The season is turning into
the realm of golden and apricot-colored leaves, and all remaining flowers replacing
petals with the wonder of seed production. Cold mornings are often followed by
warmer afternoons, but not always; and with the turning back of clocks once
again to normal time by human standards, there will be those who express a
grumpy attitude towards it all. Of course, all else on the planet has been on
earth-time since the dawn of existence.
It has already been
several weeks since I last sat outside despite the coolness of the day. There is always a gift waiting for me, and
this day was no different. A flock of robins
were a delight to watch as they feasted on the Blackhaw viburnum berries which
are all turning from pink to blue, their ripest color. The afternoon ended with a nice little snack of
pizza and lemonade.
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I don’t really know what
is going wrong with me when it comes to photographing my garden, except that
the lenses that replaced my cataracts have formed a fogging behind them. It’s an easy fix, so they say, if I can bend
my head back enough for the procedure to take place, and I thought I would be
able to perform that task; but after a few months of not improving, I’m not so
sure anymore. My right eye is worse than my left, and I can see what I consider
fine until I begin working on my photographs. That’s when I can truly see my
eyesight is not clear.
Just one thing after
another, and another, and another…
If I didn’t visit your
blogs last time you left me a comment, I’m truly sorry. I always know who you are, but life got away
from me and that’s all I can say.
Next week my glass music
box, which has never played correctly since the day it was gifted to me used, will
be on its way to a place in Florida that repairs music boxes as complex as
mine. I thought about replacing it with a new music box until I saw the price. I
just about died right there on the spot. It will be fantastic to listen to the
three movements of Phantom of the Opera without having to stand by the music
box to wind the turnkey half a turn to continue to the next place it chooses to
stop which is three or four times during the three movements.
It was all becoming
extremely frustrating. It was originally
a birthday present, and I was told that the repair will be my Christmas
present. Somehow, I feel slightly short
changed.
It has been several days
and as I, with a cat wedged between me and the chair arm, am attempting to
finish typing this conversation, he is still demanding my constant attention. He
had a rather expensive dental cleaning with two teeth needing to be removed and
is such a sappy guy now.
October was just a dress
rehearsal and November has been the true pinnacle of glory for autumn in my
garden. Breezes are more demanding, rain has begun to be more plentiful, and
gold, orange, and russet hued leaves are blanketing the ground in preparation
for wintertime.
Science tells us this
process is called leaf abscission, a controlled process of shedding leaves.
Before detachment, the plant reabsorbs valuable resources like nitrogen and
phosphorus from the leaf tissue back into the permanent structures of the stem
and roots. As a result, chlorophyll production is slowed to a halt, and being
chemically unstable, the green coloration disappears, revealing the presence of
other pigments. A layer of specialized cells forms at the base of the
leaf stalk, sealing the wound and allowing the leaf to drop cleanly.
As always, I am at a loss
as to how this ends.
She typed
into the middle of the night
breaking
for a sip of tart cherry juice.
A glass with
ice, coated in water drops
dripping
like rain onto her cotton dress.
With
lights turned out, but for a lonely lamp
of dim
light to let her plants sleep the night
while
piano music floats through the air.
But her
cat, Austin, left ages ago,
a bump to
his side when she pressed a key
stunk as
a substitute for a caress.
On she
types until the midnight hour,
then she
yawns and stops for an eager read,
twists
the corner of her mouth in disgust
and
deliberately clicks on publish,
just two
steps from her melt down breaking point
of
rewrite after rewrite- on and on.
It is
better to give, than to receive,
so... a
merry Fall Day to you, my friend.
Swamp Sunflower, Helianthus angustifolius
Carolina Wren, Thryothorus ludovicianus
Not in focus , but it is what it is.
Winterberry
Swamp Sunflower,
with Blackhaw Viburnum berries in background
Unripe berries are white, half ripe berries are reddish,
and ripe berries are blue.
Winterthur Viburnum ripe berries
House Finch, Haemorhous mexicanus
Winterberry berries
a.jpg)
Maybe a Cucumber Beetle
Charlotte and Austin
Auster 'Paten' Seedheads
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