A coax of wind, and the leaves will fall as autumn reaches its glory.

As I look up from my front porch.

 

Dreamy…

Today is the expression of all that is good in this little garden.  It’s late in the year, but still the sun warms as an artic cooling has begun slowly sweeping the hilltops up north down towards us.  Today I’m watching a cheeky little chickadee drink at the birdbath, a bit leery, then poof, out of sight, off to another adventure.  Late autumn decided to become late spring, so here I am watering a parched garden to keep some of the fall colors from vanishing so terribly fast.

My podiatrist has given me until early November to find shoes that will help with all the cushion of fat that has disappeared from the bottom of my feet, especially my right foot.  It has turned out to be a task of what one might think purgatory has a hand in.  Impossible is not a word I embrace lightly, but I’m changing my appointment to sometime in January, when hopefully my mission will have been completed.

The flowers that are keeping the pollinators happy in this space are the aromatic and ‘paten’ asters and some tiny white flowered aster that came with the garden and has refused to leave.  The Swamp Sunflower is still going strong, and the tiny and larger pollinators love it.  Although garden books say it’s completely happy in a regular garden, we water it when it begins to sulk, which is often these days.

No mosquitoes, so fantastic not sharing my space with them today.  My deck is a carpet of leaves, mostly green, yellow and brown; but occasionally a red one makes an appearance.  I love it when a noisy chirper flies into the garden, but out of sight.  Since a bird can make so many different sounds, I’m often clueless unless I see it with my own eyes. 

Just a blur and it flew into the healthy Blackhaw Viburnum that is dripping with the darkest of blue berries, the viburnum that shares its space with the American Dogwood under the old White Ash Tree.  The sprinkler is beneath the viburnum, so it may be taking advantage of the shower of water droplets.

The rustle of leaves in the great oak trees that are beginning to turn yellow becomes quite noticeable when a wave of air rushes through the garden and on to the neighbors.  The smaller wind chime clanks away as it hangs from the umbrella handle on the patio. 

It wants to sing, but we are stumped as to where it may go to create that melody not too far away from us, but not to close to the bird boxes.  It was near the dogwood, but after many years the branches intertwined with it and quieted its song.  We’ll sort it out before Christmas.  I’m almost positive about that… almost. 

I smell a smoky barbecue going on with the neighbors behind us as they converse with each other loudly.  Perhaps it’s good that I don’t understand them, that they are just ‘talk’ to mingle with the road traffic. 

Time to move the sprinkler to the damp garden, but as I stand under this huge white ash tree, the breezes pick up and a light shower of never-ending yellow leaves begins to rain down upon me as I gaze, mesmerized.  The beauty is astounding.  I could stand here forever.  OUCH!!!  

What one sometimes forgets, I guess that is me, is that a white ash leaf is a compound of leaves attached to a stem called a petiole.  After each leaf has fallen to the ground, also must the petiole at some point in time. Mine hit my head like an arrow shot from the tree itself.  It still smarts.

Nature keeps giving and giving, as at this moment, the neighboring oak trees are being infiltrated with grackles, more and more noisy grackles.  If they are here, then they are mobbing my bird feeder as well.  Carpenter bees try to collect nectar from the crocus, but crocus only offer pollen… no nectar.  Sad watching them, trying over and over again.

This thing called autumn, dresses in its finest, which… in actuality, is leaves dying; and we can see that death has never looked so heavenly beautiful.  And underneath that blanket we sometimes call doom; that time when beauty has turned black, the earth is busy in regeneration.   Life is always getting along with business as usual.

I’m going to leave you here in this moment to be thankful that I have run out of words.  When I find an accent in time that begs to be photographed, I seldom turn away from the opportunity, unless I wish to soak it all up and selfishly keep it for myself only.  Naughty me. 

I’ve been naughty a lot lately 😊

Hover Fly in Crocus

Hover Fly on Swamp Sunflower

Bumblebee 

Crocus 'Goulimyi'

I have never seen this type of Hover Fly before.

Look at how long it's back legs are.

Maybe a Black-shouldered Drone Fly Eristalis dimidiata

Joe Pye Weed seed

Coral Berry, also called Buck Bush

The red leaves are from the dogwood tree.

'Sparkleberry' Winterberry

'Winterthur' Viburnum

Bumblebee on Aromatic Aster

It is on a fresh flower.  The flowers around it are aging.

Bumblebee on Canadian Goldenrod

Carpenter Bee and (I think) a Shield Bug

on Swamp Sunflower.

Carpenter Bees, Bumblebees, and smaller bees

on Canadian Goldenrod

Coralberry

Fothergilla gardenii (red leaves)

with 

Itea virginica 'Saturnalia', Virginia Sweetspire

Cardinal taking a bath in the sprinkler water

Lacewing Larva with the dried up bodies of its food 

carried on its back as camouflage.

If you look at the center of the flower,

you can see the groove where it was hiding before moving.

Leaf-footed Bug

Came out of hiding when I watered the potted plants.

This Post Is Linked To:

Saturday's Critters

My Corner of the World