"Ideal" Fall

Vermont in October

Thanksgiving is only two weeks away which seems too soon. 


I'm grateful for past falls, like the ones we drew with primary crayons in grade school. We enjoyed this season in Massachusetts and Vermont several years ago. The colors were vibrant, despite the dreary sky. 

Ripe pumpkins tumbled down the hill like kids pushing out doors for recess.  They were so cheery, and promised the goodness of the Thanksgiving feast coming soon. 


This lovely sundial symbolized the change in seasons to me. It's on the grounds of the Marsh-Billings-Rockefeller home in the national park in Vermont. It's a beautiful estate, and worth a trip to southern Vermont.  

I'm grateful that I have memories that fill in the chinks in my present discipline towards gratitude. To have experienced quintessential autumn on the east coast makes me feel full, that I haven't missed the beautiful places that created our ideals of fall and Thanksgiving. 

 I will be with my daughter and her family for the holiday. She and the kids have never seen an eastern fall, but I hope that's the vision in their imaginations. And I hope someday they get to see the real thing. Nevertheless, our western setting will not dim our celebrating the good things in our lives this year.







                                                                         

                                                                                                       

Don't Need a Calendar to Know it's Fall

I don't need a calendar to know fall is here. There are signs all around:

Spiders spin webs between any two or more points in the yard and house.  :(  

By the way, if I put the period after the frowny face :(.  does it look like a mole?  

A cluster of stink bugs lurk outside hoping to sneak in. When they do, Bill drops them into soapy water to backstroke until they drown. 

The dogwood adorns herself with red berries. 

(Dogwoods are not dioecious, that is specifically male or female.)

The last watermelon in the garden just won't get ripe and we're in a race against the first frost. 

The corn is harvested.

As we near the equinox the sun shines like a klieg light directly through the west doors. The flower arrangement of rosy sedum, purple basil and zebra grass lights up until it glows as if lit from within. 





 

                       The usually dark hall turns golden.

Welcome, Autumn. I hope you are long and fair. 

sprigs: Red leaf thou dost betray me

Red leaf thou dost betray me,

Summer’s pleasures now are o’er

For me no cheery fire waits

or steeping pot of tea.

I must be south for months to pass

where stronger sun will warm me

with seasons' cycle I'll return,

to flowers, heat, and grass.

I get downright poetic out in the yard sometimes. 

Sprigs: Autumn Chores

While I wait for everything to just go ahead and die so I can pull it up, I've been looking around for some productive time outside. 

Recently I cleaned half of our shed, tossing trash and sorting the hazardous waste to take to the county's special collection day. I reorganized the tools on the peg board. Then I swept the floor.

I came across the scrap of chicken wire I'd been saving and seized the opportunity. In wet weather the ramp on my potting shed gets slippery and I don't want to risk a fall. With my handy heavy-duty stapler I attached the wire to the bottom half.  

Thank you, Martha Stewart, for a great idea. 


 I've been meaning to do this for two years, and it only took 15 minutes.



What little chore have you tackled that yielded an extra measure of satisfaction? 

Sprigs: Fall at my Front Door

Fall crouches at my front door. 

The small stone-bound container off my porch overflows with its energy. The once scrawny nasturtiums that suffered through the summer now fill the space left by other plants past their prime. The potato vine sprawls in all directions  and its neon color pops next to the orange of the pumpkin. 

It won't be long before frost nips them all back, but in the meantime they shout out "success!" every time I pass by. 

Sprigs: Glorious Flowers Greet Fall

Glorious color in this late display along Highway 601 in Surry County, NC makes up for the trees. They're only turning brown. 

I saw a car stopped by the side of the road here, and the family had plopped the baby in its car seat in the midst of the flowers for a photo. 
I was sorry I didn't have my camera along to take their picture.