Archive for autumn

An Autumn Day in the Mountains

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I wake to the sound of the wind,

As it whirls through the rainbow of trees.

I feel the leaves falling around me.

Floating on the stiff breeze.

 

The last of my flowers still standing

Defying the first light frost.

Black-eyed Susan waving goodbye,

To their season, soon to be lost.

 

The walnuts clutter beneath the trees,

The animas rushing to store

The unusual bounty of mast crops

For winter is coming once more.

 

As much as I used to love Autumn,

Now, I feel only grief.

As I wait, and cry with a shiver,

For spring to bring some relief.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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Summers Goodbye

Lightning  rolls across the darkening sky

Thunder follows, an echo in the night

The flowers are still blooming, bright and tall

Leaves begin to have touches of gold and crimson

Remember the walk wetook into the forest?

A waterfall drumming over rocky cliffs?

I think of that place as I walk and imagine-

The forest and falls in the full burst of Autumn

I watch the flowers in the lightnings flash

and listen to the wind coming from the north

How much longer till that first killing frost?

Some years it comes early and sadly wilts the leaves

Others see rhododendron blooming in November

Summers end in the mountains is always a surprise

Tomortow, I will gather the pumpkins by the creek

Collect a vase of Autumn flowers for the table

Listen to the first leaves crunch underfoot as I walk

Part of me longs for a late autumn, days of warmth and sun

Yet there is something in the breeze, welcoming cool nights

Perhaps  a fire within a circle of stones, as we sit and talk

Remembering the days we spent in the hot summer sun

Again,  tonight, lightning streaks across the darkness above us

The thunder and first spatters of rain send us running inside

I want to cling to summer just a bit longer, enjoy the rustling leaves

Watch asters bloom and bees gather nectar…Summers goodbye

Wait a while as a etch photos of your warmth and growing

Into my mind to dream of in the cooler days ahead…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Swirling Leaves of Autumn

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The wind shakes my car as I round the curve
Autumns leaves twirl around me in symphony
Yesterday, the mountains were green
Today, they are a rainbow of yellows and reds

I hear the sound of children playing
They laugh as they whirl in autumn leaves
Yesterday went so quickly, today, in a flash is gone
I wonder if I even have a tomorrow –

Or am I just an autumn leaf?

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Enjoy a Fall poem and Help me Identify this flower!

imageI planted a package of wild flower seeds and after a long, dry spring, I am enjoying these large, beautiful orange flowers. They are about four feet tall, with multiple flowers and rather large leaves. The flowers look rather like cosmos, but the plant stems and leaves are much larger. Does anyone know what they are called?

I learned this poem in fifth grade and have never forgotten it. I am sure I could find the author if I looked it up, but since today (August 31) is my son’s birthday, and I have always considered the poem to be about today, because it is named, “September”..I will share it now.

September

A road like brown ribbon,

A sky that is blue,

A forest of green with that sky peeping thru.

Asters, deep purple,

A grasshoppers call-

Today, it is summer,

Tomorrow, it’s fall!

 

 

 

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Talking with the Dead

Though I have chosen a scary title for my Halloween blog, I have only precious memories in mind.

Holidays are a time when my lost loved ones are particularly on my mind. I remember things we did together, laugh quietly at converDSCN1024sations and times we shared.

I lost my father only two months ago. There are so many times that I find myself thinking, “I can’t wait to tell dad about that!” -then realizing that dad isn’t there to tell. My heart sinks as I think that the books and stories he wrote are all I will ever have. Memories constantly come into my mind of our days together. We were both strong willed and had our differences, but I was his only child and he loved me unconditionally.

I often feel that I never really knew my mom like I so desperately wanted to. She kept her past life very private. She was lively, funny and beautiful, I will always remember the funny things she would say, tricks she would pull, and the delicious treats she would make. My son loved her special dessert she called “Good Cake”. Still, there was a mystery about my mother that I sometimes connect with, a knowledge that she was so much like me, that when she saw me taking a “wrong turn”, she though of herself, and it caused her to close up inside. Since people tell me that I “look just like her”, I often wonder if our solemn, secretive natures were more similar than I will ever know. Perhaps the things she saw as regrets were different from mine only because of the time we lived in and the increasing acceptance of life’s choices.

Halloween, and then Las Dia de Los Muerte, in the Hispanic culture always bring back sweet, yet painful memories of my son. He was 15 when I lost him very suddenly in early October a few years back. October had always been my favorite month, and now it is only a long torture that ends in the very “celebration” of death, or at least a connection with the dead. My son and I were very close, every day is another trial in pain and sorrow. I literally lost my health because of his death, so I cannot for one minute forget it. My son loved Halloween, dressing up and going out with his older brothers and sisters when he was young, and then,with his friends as a young teen. He was quiet, but had a beautiful face, a sly smile, that I still see looking at me when my thought wander in quiet times.

I often visit the cemetery where they now lie, along with the old graveyard down the road where many of my elders are buried. It down and talk to them, cry for them, ask for their help, for reminders of their love, like the dimes I am constantly finding that have come to feel like a message from my son that he is with me. Since it is Halloween, I will mention the other special sign that I have with my son and my mom-I find Black Widow spiders on their graves, in the flowers, beside the stones. Its like they remember that I study insects and know that I will see them as a sign that they still dwell with me. I will look around and find no other Black Widows in the cemetery. That convinces me that it is a special and private symbol between us.

Talking to my lost loves provides me with a link to them, a closeness, that I never want to loose. I have never felt that I had to be in the cemetery to connect with them, but sometimes, being there, bringing a flower or a small symbol of something that reminds me of them, helps my aching soul. There is nothing to fear, and much to treasure when we refuse to let those that have been stolen from this earth to become stolen from our hearts.

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Autumn Gifts from Mother Nature

DSCN1095Fall is definitely a beautiful time of year in the mid-south.  I love the webs of orb weavers, like the huge Black and  Yellow Argiope (garden spider) who tends to stay in the middle of her web.  Males build smaller webs around hers until they see a chance to mate. Then there is the araneus, a smaller orb weaver whose webs are often attached to telephone poles and wires, tree limbs and weeds. Unlike the Argiope, she tends to hide near the edge of her web until prey lands within her trap, then she goes in for the kill, wrapping them in her silk for later eating.  Both of these spiders  are mature females waiting for a mate and then for making their paper-bag brown egg casings, often attached to one of the tall, stiff weed stems where they have made their web all summer.

Mushrooms are just amazing in autumn.  The colors and varieties are enormous!  My daughter spotted some mid-sized yellow mushrooms with brown marks on to the other day.  I didn’t look them up or take a photo, but I remember what they looked like, and will definitely check my book!  last year, I spotted some beautiful mushrooms sprouting from the ssump of a rotting tree.  They would start out with a bulb at the top, and as they matured, they opened up, sporting a detached cap.  Their tan color made them blend in with the tree trunk, I did take photos of them. I had trouble finding an exact match in my book, but will try to do some up-dating on mushrooms soon and add the name into the article.

I love the variety of autumn asters.  The tiny white ones are often pulled up as weeds, but I let them grown, ungainly and tall until to burst into bloom in late September and bloom until frost.  Honey bees and butterflies find the late blooming asters to be one of their few sources of nectar this time of year, I wish people would be aware of how important honey bees are to crops!  Diseases and decreasing habitat have greatly reduced the number of honey bees in the Southern Appalachians, please nature lovers, leave the wild asters, both the small gangly white variety as well as the more attractive and larger purple asters so that the bees and butterflies that are still around in autumn will have food!

I cannot forget the beautiful red berries that appear on dogwood trees. They become aparent only as the leaves start to fall near the time of the first frost. Wild roses also sport red seed buds in fall. Both provide food for the creatures who stay for the winter in the Southern Appalachians,-anywhere from birds like the cardinal and gray squirrels.

Wild muscedine grapes seem to flow from the branches of trees at the edge of forest and yards where they can get plenty of sun. They are dark purple, and smaller than grapes that we grow, but were often used by early settlers for jellies, juice and jams. The leaves are dark green and fluted, just as a “tame” grape.  The grapes hang in bunches similar to tame graoes, as well.

Nature doesn’t leave us empty handed in the fall of the year, it just shows the products of summers growth and becomes food for the animals who stay with us during fall and winter.

I will end with a favorite poem that I learned in fifth grade. I appologize for not remembering the author.

Autumn

A road like brown ribbon, a sky that is blue,

A forest of green with that sky peeping through,

Asters, deep purple, a grasshoppers call,

Today, it is summer, tomorrow, it’s fall.

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