Saturday, September 12, 2009

THE FIRST BRIGHT LEAF

Autumn color has been strangely slow in showing itself in my valley this Sept. 2009, just as spring and then summer had been noticeably delayed.
That was the thought on my mind five minutes ago, around 6:35 p.m., as my dog and I traversed our favorite path in the woods. In no tree or shrub did I see any color but green, nor on the ground beneath my feet did I see any fallen color.
Then something fell on my head---the bright leaf you see here. From where did it fall; from where might the late-afternoon breezes have blown it?
Perhaps it was merely a nudge to remind me, the seasons arrive in their own good time.
 
R.A.T. (Rose Around Town) can be reached with your comments at randrmoore@gmail.com . If you're sending a comment for my big dog Jack, I'll pass it along; he listens quite closely to me.

GAME OF THE DAY: FIND THE PHOTOGRAPHER IN THIS PHOTO

(Clue: clicking on photo for enlarged view might help)
 
Photo from the gardens of R.A.T. (Rose About Town).

Thursday, September 10, 2009

1960--BOB & Rose


(click on photo area to view full size)

SEPTEMBER SONG...
 
It was fine-wine September
blue-and-gold September
burnished-leaf September
when I wed my own true love.
 
And the air was warm and veiled
with the fine September sunshine
and the young boys flung down rosebuds
when I wed my own true love.
 
And I locked my arm in his arm
and we raced away together
and the sunshine turned to cloudburst
when I wed my own true love.
 
And we wandered 'round like gypsies
and we laughed a lot together
and we didn't think of duties
'til our pennies disappeared.
 
Then we turned our wheels homeward
and we settled in our farmhouse
and began our world together
me and me true love.
 
And the years brought joy and sorrow
and we walked through both united
and I've always loved September
when I wed my own true love.
 
From Rose to Bob, Sept. 10 2009,
49th anniversary

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

GARDEN DAYS ARE BRIGHT BUT NUMBERED...


(Click on photo to see full size).

The days are shorter, the angle of the sun is switching into autumn mode, the nights are colder. In this deep valley, where the cold comes colder than in the lands above, and thus the frost comes earlier, the blooms I'm seeing now could soon be dying.
 
Once upon a time, really not so long ago, these were the days when threat of autumn cold at night would send me scurrying to cover all my gardens before nightfall. What changed me in my fever to keep my flowers blooming through as many frosts as possible was actually a long and lovely autumn quite some time ago.
 
When December came that year, my lawns and gardens still bore their summer vigor. And here I was, surprisingly, still mowing and deadheading and weeding. And I was tired of it!

It was then I fully realized that what I really loved about the beauty of my summer gardens was that they, like life, were temporary; that is what had made their vivid presence precious to me.

In summer, I still don't tire of tending all my gardens and inhaling their aroma. The butterflies and moths and dragonflies and hummingbirds are lovely, lively bonuses that often leave before the frost; they do what nature dictates.
 
But to wake one morning to a garden blackened by the cold is always startling to a gardener. Now I handle it by jumping in and clearing the debris and tucking in perennial plants and shrubs for winter.
  
And then, with summer duties gone, I have the time to savor all the beauties... or give in to my normal autumn wanderlust... or lie back on my deck and dream of Indian Summers.
 
To everything there truly is a season.   (R.A.T.---Rose About Town---will entertain your own seasonal thoughts at randrmoore@gmail.com)