The latter half of this summer has been hot and dry…
as you can tell by the bare-bones look of the riffle in front,
and looking upstream, of the cottage.
Normally, there'd be enough water coming down
between the rocks for a good canoeist to negotiate
from top to bottom and never drag or bump a single stone.
Let the seasonal celebration begin! Autumn is here and summer has gone on a nine-month hiatus. Hooray!
Yeah, yeah, I hear those mutterings from you astronomical nitpickers with framed star charts on the wall and a Celestron Edge 1400 HD as the optical centerpiece of your backyard observatory. I do know the seasonal switch isn't technically official until that precise moment when the sun crosses the celestial equator, which occurs at 11:09 p.m. EDT. But I say one should never become such a stickler for details that you mess up a good excuse for a party…and who wants to have a FALL IS HERE fête after dark? Nope, you gotta give a little slack occasionally. Autumn does arrive today. Let's not get bogged down by the practically trivial.
Okay, now that we've gotten that out of the way…
Earlier this morning, camera in hand, I took a quick saunter around the cottage and along the riverbank. I thought I'd share a few quick snaps.
Autumn may begin with an astronomical event…
but visual autumn begins with a single colored leaf.
Thanks entirely to morning sunlight rather than colored leaves,
the Cottage Pool appears decidedly autumnish—don't you think?
Of course a well-dressed finch simply has to pick up the theme.
Same pool, moments later, different angle—
but that single sycamore leaf says change is afoot.
Morning light through a box elder leaf,
which shows a bit of foretelling rust.
A great blue heron caught in the act of fishing near the deck.
Purple coneflower seed heads. Time to collect them, pull them
apart, allow the seeds to dry indoors for a few days—
then bag half for spring potted starts and winter sow the rest in a new bed.
Bankside looking upstream.
"No, you don't see me…I'm hidden, just a knot on the limb
and most definitely not a squirrel. Really!"
A new plant I was recently given which which shall remain nameless,
because I've forgotten what it's called.