Today the Better Half [BH] asked if I had noticed the blossoms on the forsythia bush behind the house. Of course, since this is the 7th of September, I replied "No, I hadn't." By the same token, the BH either hadn't noticed, or hadn't mentioned, the lilac blossom on the bush next to the forsythia. When I'm anticipating the arrival of Autumn, I don't expect to see Spring flowers in bloom, but there they were.
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| late-blooming forsythia
Photo by J. Harrington
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| late-blooming lilac
Photo by J. Harrington
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As another indication that Autumn is arriving, the bluebird house today was inhabited by neither the tree frog nor the hornets or wasps that had been using it recently. Cooler nights may be encouraging some critters to locate closer to Winter quarters.
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| maple leaves beginning to show color
Photo by J. Harrington
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| mixed deciduous showing color
Photo by J. Harrington
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May you enjoy a safe, healthy, enjoyable Labor Day. If you've come across the advice that suggests taking a walk in nature to reduce the chronic tension that seems to be going around these days, I can confirm, based on my walk-about today, that it's good advice, and true. I've been more rigorous about getting out and getting exercise by doing outside chores. I haven't been spending enough time wandering around just to see what's going on. I'll do better, at least until we need to start reporting on wind chills.
With what a glory comes and goes the year!
The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers
Of sunny skies and cloudless times, enjoy
Life’s newness, and earth’s garniture spread out;
And when the silver habit of the clouds
Comes down upon the autumn sun, and with
A sober gladness the old year takes up
His bright inheritance of golden fruits,
A pomp and pageant fill the splendid scene.There is a beautiful spirit breathing now
Its mellow richness on the clustered trees,
And, from a beaker full of richest dyes,
Pouring new glory on the autumn woods,
And dipping in warm light the pillared clouds.
Morn on the mountain, like a summer bird,
Lifts up her purple wing, and in the vales
The gentle wind, a sweet and passionate wooer,
Kisses the blushing leaf, and stirs up life
Within the solemn woods of ash deep-crimsoned,
And silver beech, and maple yellow-leaved,
Where Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down
By the wayside a-weary. Through the trees
The golden robin moves; the purple finch,
That on wild cherry and red cedar feeds,
A winter bird, comes with its plaintive whistle,
And pecks by the witch-hazel, whilst aloud
From cottage roofs the warbling blue-bird sings;
And merrily, with oft-repeated stroke,
Sounds from the threshing-floor the busy flail.O what a glory doth this world put on
For him who, with a fervent heart, goes forth
Under the bright and glorious sky, and looks
On duties well performed, and days well spent!
For him the wind, ay, and the yellow leaves
Shall have a voice, and give him eloquent teachings.
He shall so hear the solemn hymn, that Death
Has lifted up for all, that he shall go
To his long resting-place without a tear.
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Please be kind to each other while you can.
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