Summer's end, autumn beginnings

Canadian Thanksgiving a week or so ago, had me out with my camera to capture the last reminders of summer if I could. These sunflowers are what I call "volunteers." They grew from seeds dropped by birds or scattered from the feeder by ambitious chipmunks or squirrels.

When I looked at these lovely glowing flower faces closely, I noticed that the birds had begun to peck away some of the ends of the pollen bearing stamens and other parts of the flower that hide the seeds underneath.

And then I noticed a small visitor.

Clinging to the face of one of the larger flowers but also to the petals of another or the back side of still another, at least five bumble bees. What a surprise this late in the season. These were small bumblebees, much smaller than the huge heavy ones that had shown up in early spring. There were several hanging around the sunflowers and staying overnight. They seemed to spend  a couple of days getting the last bits of pollen, staying late so that it was, I assume, too cool for them to fly back to a hive before they had their little backleg paniers full.

Lovely reminders of the sad plight of many, possibly most of the world's bees.

I  so look forward to spring and summer filled with such glorious flowers which will result from the many birds that visit my feeders over the late fall and winter. And the return of the bumblebees and honey bees.

We are so blessed in Canada with the changing seasons. I only hope and pray that this winter is easier to deal with than last. May you have a lovely day being reminded of the beauty of nature that is offered to us to enjoy in so many ways throughout the seasons.

Growing things

There are many sunflowers growing in the grass at the base of bird feeders in my back yard. I call them "volunteers" because I don't plant them.

After a while, the  petals turn brown and fall off and all that's left is this:

A huge seed head with some of the little bits of flower from the centre left.
Then:

With not much left, the birds have turned to:

The feeder not the giraffes....:) Though the giraffes make good perches while waiting for a spot on the feeder. There are still some smaller sunflowers that are offering seed and it's fun to watch the goldfinches perch on the top and bend over the rim to pluck a seed from the centre of the seedhead... but mostly now they go to the feeder except for the few who prefer their food to be really fresh.

The giraffes by the way were created by Michael Pocock of Clarksburg Ontario, who is a gifted iron and metal sculptor. I couldn't resist them several years ago, and still love having them in my yard - along with the birds of course...

Early in the morning in the garden

In trying to return to daily posting, I realized this morning I had no new photographs and no idea what to write this morning. So I took my camera and wandered out into the garden. The sun was just over the hill on the east side and was casting beautiful shadows. Sunbeams caught brilliant colour in some spots flickering through tree branches and plant stems. I catch sight of the tomatoes.

The drops of rain from early morning showers glisten on the small cherry tomatoes both red and yellow. One larger tomato, trying to ripen before the frost arrives (which this morning didn't feel far away) appears to be bathed in gleaming moisture - I wonder if there will be enough warmth in the next few days to ripen it and others more green.

Some more - beafsteak I think. They make my mouth water, even though they're not ripe yet.  I'll have some for breakfast I think, knowing there are about half a dozen waiting on the kitchen counter. With fresh free range eggs,and maybe chives from another section of the garden.

The chill on my feet and in the air makes me turn around and look at everything. Much work to do to clean up the garden before winter. But since it's just the beginning of fall and the colour in the forest along the river is hardly started, I'll have time if I do a bit every day.

The wonder of this bounty from tiny seeds never ceases to make me feel very grateful.

The sky in the west has a gathering of clouds, some dark and threatening, some white and towering into the sky. More rain I wonder? It's rained off and on for several days - and the grass continues to need mowing. I have to laugh as I think about that, it's one of my least favourite activities.

And so I turn to the cosmos and volunteer sunflowers which blaze like headlights in the rising sun.

Breathing in the cool air, taking in the flowers, the birds waiting for me to leave so they can have breakfast, the dogs sniffing around in the grass, checking out last night's visitors, I realize how truly fortunate I am to live in this beautiful spot.

Once again I vow I'll have a small veggie garden next year.

And come inside to write.  My mind teams with ideas, colour, the feel of the breeze on my cheeks, the dampness on my feet. A pretty wonderful way to start the day I figure - lucky me. How about you? Hope your day started well and continues to bring you satisfaction and even joy.

Fall colour

There is something simply beautiful about the colours that occur in fall. The artist in me savours them all.  But sometimes the brilliance that is caught at sunset - as these orange pansies and marigolds in my window box were a few evenings ago, makes my heart sing.

I can't imagine not being able to see colour. It is truly one of the wonderful gifts that we humans have. We take them so for granted our five or six senses, don't you think?

A few years ago a blind rough coat collie came to live with me, and I marvelled at how he managed to get along with only a little bit of vision. He would walk and even run the pathways I mow in the pasture, and as soon as his whiskers felt the grasses he would veer back into the centre of the path. The Invisible Fence kept him safe on the property - because he still had his hearing. But it made me aware of how important the ability to see is.

So when I notice the changing seasons, I'm even more grateful for my senses and for the ability to recognize them from the first hint that change is on the way.

Sunflowers have been erupting all over the garden for several weeks, but this beauty - there are now more than 20 blossoms on it - took it's time growing. It must be about eight feet tall. I'm going to have to put a stake in the ground now so that it won't fall over, especially when the birds land on it to grab seeds which they will be doing soon.

Today it's raining, gently, softly, not like the downpours and deluges that have damaged so much of North America's coastlines recently. The ground will be soft enough to plant a stake and tie this beauty to it.

And soft enough for me to get busy and tidy up some of the weeds and grasses I've allowed to take hold over the summer months. Cement-like dirt is very discouraging to try to weed. My hoe doesn't work well at all.

And then there are these dancing daisy-like beauties, feathery and light - they remind me of my brothers who like me, love cosmos and how they dress a flower garden.

And then there is Christopher, whose vision is impaired with a scar on the retina of one eye. He doesn't see colour anyway, but he is a colourful cat, black and sleek with a few white hairs here and there to remind me of passing time. He's colourful in other ways.

Today everyone is gathered inside, out of the drizzle, but listening to its gentle dripping onto the deck and pond. The colours will be more intense because of the mist and rain. A good day to savour everything.