summer draining away

The marsh milkweed is going to seed. Instead of letting the wind take the seed, I'm capturing them and spreading them in one area. The ligularia will seed itself. in another year or two, our ligularia patch will be huge. This year we're lucky that the colors are changing slowly. The maple leaves almost make me want to sing "Oh Canada", but, I don't know the words

these could be the last flowers

The weather outlook calls for snow tommorrow. Well I knew it was coming, but I was kinda hoping that it would hold off till November or December. I find myself in the weird position where both the lawnmower and snowblower are full of gas and ready to go. Our garden is a paradox (the ones that could fly have long gone south). You'll get it if you've watched the Marx Brothers as much as I have.The leaves are losing their color at the same time new leaves and flowers are streching for the sun. The new ligularia seem to have doubled and tripled over night just as the mature plants are giving up the ghost. The hydrangas have a dozen new buds. It's a race to see if they bloom before the first frost. The last pic is a weed, but remember, one man's weed is another man's flower.

Tom Rush at Kent Stage

Pat and I joined 200 middle aged appreciative fans and one very lucky teenager at the Kent Stage to see Tom Rush. If you know who Tom Rush is, there's no more I need to say. If you don't, you've been deprived of something wonderful. New stuff, old stuff, and stories, the set lasted two and a half hours.

color on a dreary day

These are some pictures of the plants Pat planted in pots on our deck. I like the way that sounds so much, I'll say it again. These are pictures of plants Pat planted in pots on our deck. All you English majors out there, help me out. That's an example of aliteration right? Well whatever it is, have you ever seen such nice dahlias? Pat's venture into urban agriculture bears fruit (tomatoes are a fruit).

new life

Even as plants fold up for the season, you can still find new life in the back yard. These ligularia seeded themselves.

OK, so fall is here

Well, I can't hang out in the back yard in a t-shirt any more. Actually, you can't hang out in the back yard at all unless you've got on a rain coat. It's been raining for the last 4 out of 5 days, or is it 9 out of the last 10. I ran out and took these pics on the one day it didn't rain. Speaking of rain, this isn't that life-bringing spring type rain, when everything smells and feels fresh and new. No! This is that life sucking kind of rain that occurs every fall when the temps hover in the 50's and the sun goes away. I yearn to work out in the yard, but in this weather, I'd be a parody of a Monty Python character working in an anarco-syndicalist commune. The rain seems to permeate every thing. You can't get warm. I watch the grass grow by the feet and wonder if it will ever end. Well, it will when it starts to snow.