A Persimmon for Bow

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It is fall. The leaves are changing colors. 

And the persimmons are ripening and falling to the ground.

Many other animals are enjoying the persimmons, but I managed to snag one for Bow.

They say you should wait until after the first big frost to harvest the persimmons, but we have not yet had our first frost, and they are almost all gone. I see their seeds scattered on the road embedded in  animal droppings. And this one was so ripe that it split open and some of the juice dribbled on my hand.

Bow enjoyed the persimmon so much that this is all that was left of it in the end.

I'm glad we did not wait for the first frost. 

A Fall Bouquet for Bow

Fall comes every year. This year, the first day of fall is today, September 22. It's still pretty warm out, but somehow the animals and plants outside sense that it is time to get ready for winter.

In fact, they have been getting ready for the past week now.

The wasps on the goldenrods are stocking up for the winter. 

The honey bees on the white wildflowers are doing the same.

The pipevine swallowtail is in such a hurry to meet all its deadlines, that it flits right past me in the field.

It won't stay in one spot long, but it will pause long enough for a clear view.

An American Lady butterfly, a little worn in the wings, enjoys the goldenrod flowers.

Them a Common Buckeye and the American Lady Butterfly socialize together on the swaying goldenrods.

A fuzzy little caterpillar makes its way on the ground among the fallen leaves.

And then there is the dogwood all decked out with faux berries, an unmistakable sign of fall. 

The dogwood tries to dupe us into thinking its bright red drupes are luscious fruit, while the dogs frolic under its branches.

The tiniest butterflies, the eastern tailed-blue and the pearl crescents, hold social balls on the gravel road.

There are still so many flowers blooming out today, that I decided to gather a bouquet and present it to Bow in a vase. Bow was interested.

He began taking out the flowers.

I thought he was getting all excited about the flowers, but actually it was the vase that he wanted.

"Hey, what's in that vase?" Bow seemed to be wondering. "Nothing, after you took all the flowers out!" I wanted to say. "It's just an empty vase now." But we didn't actually say any of that. We just acted it out. 

Once he had made sure that the vase was really empty, Bow handed it back to me.

I think that's sort of how it is when we expect something special to happen on the first day of fall. It's just a date. It's a day of the year. It's an empty possibility, until you fill it with something. It's like any other empty vessel.

Just Leaves

It is definitely, unmistakably fall now. The maple  leaves are turning the most brilliant colors.

Some trees are supposed to give fruit in the fall.

The persimmon with its orange baubles looks as if it is decorated for Halloween.

But for others, the rare fruit they are sprouting now is unseasonable and slightly disturbing, like the odd, last child of an overly fertile woman long past her prime.

Here is the last of the blackberries, ripening when the rest of the bush has gone dormant.

Here is the first cherry, nursing a single green fruit and willing it to ripen. Who is this cherry for? Who will get to eat it?

Right beside the first cherry tree, is the second cherry tree, with its seemingly pregnant open bloom.

Will this blossom come to fruition as well? And if so, what will become of the fruit?

There is one branch of the service berry by the fence line that still bears blossoms.

Will there be service berries for the deer to eat in November?

The deer are still coming by in the evening in the front yard, though they do seem a little more shy now.

They come with the setting sun, and they leave when they see me.

I read somewhere that the Japanese fry maple leaves and then eat them, and I wondered what Bow would do, if I offered him an assortment of leaves.

So this morning I went out to gather leaves in a Wal*Mart bag, and I brought them in to the pen for Bow to inspect.

Bow was not impressed. He took the first leaf out of the bag, turned it over then handed both  the leaf and the bag back to me.

I thought that perhaps if I laid them out on the floor, so he could see how different and varied they were, I could get him more interested in the leaves.

Bow was very patient with me. He lay down on the floor quietly while I arranged the leaves to my satisfaction.

Then, when he could tell I was done, he got up, picked up every leaf from the floor, picked up the bag and handed them all back to me, with an unmistakable  gesture that said: Get them out of here. After all, they were just dead leaves!

When I took the leaves away, Bow asked to go outside.

He inspected the view for a moment, and then he settled down on the rim of the bench in his favorite mode of relaxing.

Maybe Bow is right. Maybe I am blowing the symbolic significance of fall foliage entirely out of proportion. After all, they are just leaves!

Blossoms in the Cold

It has gotten cold lately. Shivery, goose-bumpy cold requiring, if not heating yet, at least blankets and warm jackets. But the more intrepid among us continue with business as usual. Bow, for one, is still going outside and staying out for long periods without complaint.

My new tenants moved into Orchard House last night. Their presence there will relieve me of the burden of having to heat the other house during the cold winter months. But I was surprised to see a pink rose still blooming on the front yard at Orchard House the day before, despite the bitter cold.

Of course, inside the blossom there was also an insect taking advantage. Where there are flowers, there  also are bugs.

In my pasture yesterday, I spotted a ladybug inside a thistle bloom. But the ladybug was green, as if with envy. Or maybe it was green from the cold, instead of being blue.

There was also a very busy bumblebee, seemingly covered with pollen, plying its trade despite the changing weather.

After all, if there are still flowers, why shouldn't the insects keep up with their usual business?

But surely all the flowers will fade soon, like these older thistle blooms that have gone to seed, and then what will the insects do?

Except that it's not really all that simple. Today, walking in the cold, cutting wind, wearing a jacket, I spotted brand new blossoms on a bare service berry tree.

Why would the tree choose to blossom at just such a time as this?

Isn't it a terrible waste of resources? Surely, there is not time enough before the first big freeze to grow any berries! I figured this must be an isolated fluke, until I saw the blossoms on the bare limbs of the first cherry tree in my orchard.

Just like the service berry, the first cherry tree has decided to bloom.

The branches are bare, the sky is grey, there is no sunlight or warmth, but still there are blossoms. And the first cherry tree is not alone in its error. The second cherry tree has sprouted a single open pink-centered blossom.

What is the world coming to?

Will we be picking cherries in November?

Even the lawn is sprouting new flowers that were not there a few days ago. And the honeysuckle seems ready with new buds just as the mature flowers are fading.

Everywhere I look, there are new flowers blooming, despite all the dying leaves.

With so much confusion about whether it is autumn or spring, it is not wonder that all the insects are still so active.

As I was taking my walk this afternoon, this spider was walking down the path, right ahead of me.

Sometimes nature gives us such mixed signals, assuring us of the hope of spring, when winter is right around the corner. Do not be deceived!

In the Swing of Fall

Fall is in full swing now, and Bow is swinging, too.

The air is crisp. The leaves are turning, and even the grass is starting to change its hue.

The big red maple is slowly starting to turn color.

And mushrooms are springing up from the lawn.

Bow is energized by the fall weather, and he asks to go out frequently.

The swing, which he often ignores in the summer, has suddenly come into full use again.

Leo has only to tease Bow a little bit, and Bow starts thinking about getting up on that swing.

Once on, he not only swings.

He also displays.

Bow can see his reflection in the glass of the doors that lead to the inner pens.

As he vocalizes and blows raspberries to impress Leo, he will occasionally steal a glance at his own reflection, to see how truly impressive he is.

Then when it's all over, Bow will switch to the bench, where he can relax, his  excess energy spent.