Autumn in November

"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."

― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

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.

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

Maybe a Cucumber Beetle

Charlotte and Austin

Auster 'Paten' Seedheads

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Saturday's Critters