Next Year...

I say in my mind that "I will get to that next year" and then realize with a blunt insight that I do not have that many "next years" left.  Each year may be a "last time" to set something right or correct a wrong or indulge a dream or attempt a hard-to-reach goal.  Each year is always more precious than the last one.  Each year is just a row of stitches in a large tapestry on which the distant prior edges are becoming more and more frayed and more faded in color.  Age and passage of time does have a way of bringing us up short, does it not?

The Season of Greetings

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Holidays for all celebrations, dear readers!

Still lost

Still trying to figure out why my new posts do not show up in my Blogroll gadget as well as those of most of my readers. So this Ent is just posted to reflect my dismay.

Seems Like Just Yesterday

The air smelled dusty,

a pungent herby fragrance

that rides in with late October sunshine

and placed a soft kiss against my cheek.

A breeze tickles the saltbush seeds

and like whispers some lift away

their feathery arms extended wide

with gay abandon onto the next adventure.

The seeds tickle my face as they twirl
down to the edge of the river

to collect like early snow

riding the water's edge

to their new home.

Procrastinating leaves rattle with autumnal 

sounds fighting the breeze.

I also linger just a while longer

and play peek-a-boo with the 

waning warmth of the setting sun.

Those Sexy Bandits Have Arrived

They arrived in larger numbers than usual and actually stopped by the bar for a quick drink before hiding in the holly trees.  (All taken through a window, so not super sharp.)

The water was frozen everywhere.  This was one of the few places where the water was not frozen and not ice cold!  Glad that they were tempted.  

The females arrived with their hair(feather)do perfect for the holiday season.

It was pretty cold even though the wind had dwindled to a small breath which only fluffed the tops of the head now and again.  And some of them were puffed up like butterballs.

They usually have yellow tips at the end of the trail and this one is red!  I thought that had something to do with gender, but I could not find information on that.  Hope they stay a while longer.

The Crazy Head Dance

As the golden yellows and blushing oranges and burning reds disappear from the landscape, they leave behind the holly dark greens and the tough oak leaf browns.  This signals the trees to do that crazy head shaking dance, to rid themselves of scratchy and rugged leaves.  They wait for the push of a storm and then toss those branches from side to side high above me sending unbreakable discs into my face and scuttling at my feet.  

My lawn is carpeted with crunchy sound alarms that squirrels set off in their hunt for a place to bury a nut.  My deck is blanketed with leathery oak leaves that grab my socks and make it inside the house or that catch a breeze and swirl across the room before I can shut the door.  Soon the inside looks like the outside as they gather in a corner of the room.

This is the pre-show to get you ready for winter.  There is no going back now. 

Taking the Time

"They" said it was going to be a rather drab fall due to the lack of rains at the end of summer.  I was disappointed...

...and then I wasn't.

There was beauty everywhere, if I just took the time to look!

Placid, Also the Lake

We took a 30 minute drive to a nearby park with a lake just before Thanksgiving.  We knew that walking will burn calories.  The autumn was at its peak and the afternoon was still warm.

The area was not quiet as about four young children were off from school for the holidays and enjoying freedom in a place where they can be children and do not have to use their "inside voice". But the noise was a joyful background rather than annoyance.  They soon disappeared to the rim of the dam.

This was the same walk where we encountered the hunting blind with the scattered corn that I posted on my other blog. We took a new trail as the one around the lake is over 7 miles and we had only a few hours before dark.

Above we are at the berm of the dam. This is a bit of manmade beauty meeting nature. I did look down every once in awhile and found many jewels for the camera's lense and I will share one below.

These days are too few and too short but I am in a pensive, placid, and empty mode in my life and seem to be able to absorb it all to fill me up.  I do not miss the busyness of success, whatever that is, and accomplishments, of which I have had a few.

A Misrepresentation

Fall is noisy and crunchy scattered like butter brickle across the pan of earth.

Fall is the song of crickets belying a firm daring soon to be buried in snow.

Fall is that older friendship that takes you to the attic for a fuzzy plaid throw.

Fall is the angle of sun catching another oblique to show forgotten shape.

Fall is shivers of thought and the respite in reflection before a scalloped landscape.

Fall is careless and fickle shoving its changes such that you can barely foresee.

Fall is a quick reminder that the year is near behind and you are in act three.

Natural Art

There is some beautiful art on my deck this morning:

My Sugar Maple Just Sneezed!

Sunshine Bursts

I am so going to miss these sunshine bursts that are at their peak in the front yard.  I hear there is frost on the way in the coming week.  

Making Lazy Circles in the Sky

 A few days ago, camera in hand, I headed across the yard for a break from housecleaning.  A shadow crossed my path and I looked up and just a short distance away, this is what I saw in the clear autumn skies.

Made my day.

It Starts With Z

In grandmother's garden there were always Zinnias.  Mostly tall and waving in the fall breezes.  I have not had such luck a my rabbits love baby zinnias in spring and early summer and eat them down to the ground.  This year I had a Great Horned Owl which made all the difference!  The nights get down into the 40s F but my zinnias still hang around to feed the insects.

The Way Forward

Sometimes the way forward is just too seductive and beautiful to ignore.

The Party Hour

I am an introvert.  I find that wedding parties can be fun if taken in small doses.  So, in the middle of the reception in the barn at the farm, I notice the sun is setting.  I quietly excuse myself and grab my small camera as I rush down the stairs and past the lower dairy room which just minutes ago had been filled with wedding guests drinking and eating orderves.

I rush to the field at the back, where sheep and one horse are calmly stuffing their tummies before the end of the fall day.  The cool front which collided with Hurricane Matthew has made the meadows green again so late in the summer.

I turn to the road where the sunset is just beginning to paint everything golden.

And while the guests back at the barn have not started their dancing, I notice that the grasses are busy doing their head bobbing just across the road.  He guys, the party is out here.

Double shot

Double shot...an accident.

After Storm

We are awaiting another hurricane.  The odds are in our favor that it will at least push by us if not resulting in a complete smash-up.  We have a really busy weekend and will be out of town on Sunday through the next week.  We just finished about 3 days of gray skies and rain leaving behind almost 5 inches of water.  The plants are loving it as are the mushrooms.

So I walked out into the squishy moss and over the spongey grass and took some photos.

This is the time of year that the grand oaks throw down their nuts for the deer and squirrels as fall closes in.

And I stepped back to get better focus I almost stepped on this little lady.  She also was coming out after the storm had ended.

"Orenge" You Glad It's Fall?

Plastic plates orange in color in a plastic red bucket with the sun shining through.

Orange...the word that poets never use when trying to rhyme.

Orange...the color that few people can carry off in a clothing theme.

Orange...the color that is used when on the roadside so that a driver will not hit you.

Christmas tree lights through a heart filter and given an orange hue.

I do not ever remember anyone saying it is their favorite color.  But it is the color fire in the cold.  It is the color of the setting sun at the end of a day.  It is the color of that juicy fruit.  Before the 15th century the color existed in Europe without a name.  Then when Portuguese merchants brought the first orange trees to Europe from Asia along with the Sanskrit term naranga, the name for the color of the fruit became the name for the color.  It evolved from the Old French orenge from pomme d'orenge.

I love fall because of all the shades of orange.

This zinnia was the only one with such an orange color and only one flower has blossomed all summer from the plant.  I love the peachy color.

I finally saw only ONE monarch in my yard.  They fly through at the end of September and cross the Chesapeake Bay a few miles from me in early October on their way south.  I did see more up in the Smithsonian gardens in Washington, DC and that gave me hope.  They are the perfect orange color.

Above a photo-painting of my orange cosmos which I photograph endlessly as it bobs in the breezes.

None of our trees have faded to orange, but this tulip tree leaf came a little closer than most.

I do love the warm and snuggly colors of fall as the air gets cooler and orange gets to take center stage.