A Walk in the Garden

It's "Walk With Me Wednesday", and time for a walk in the garden while fall still lingers. The trees are in various stages of changing colors and dropping their leaves; the nights are cool, but tank tops are not unheard of during the day yet. The garden still blooms, but autumn is unmistakably here.

The mimosa, which a few months ago was covered in pink flowers and attendant butterflies, is rapidly losing its leaves, and the rattle of dry seed pods in the wind is a clear harbinger of winter weather. The pods litter the yard in November, and keep me busy sweeping them off the porch.




The marigolds still bloom in the back yard, but the lush green foliage of August has faded. The firethorn bushes have come into their own now, heavily laden with red and orange berries. The thrushes and cactus wrens are busy in the bushes at midday. There's precious little moisture in the air now, as my dry hands can attest; the bird bath sits high and dry and serves to catch falling leaves from the plum tree.

The rosemary bushes seem determined to bloom one last time before December. At Christmas I will cut their branches, along with the firethorn and juniper hedges, and decorate the mantle with fragrant, colorful garlands.

The wind has brought a stray tumbleweed into the yard. It's hard to tell in the picture, but this one is nearly as tall as I am. I approach it cautiously; tumbleweeds are terrifically thorny, and once they have piled up against a fence or a hedgerow, they become a fearsome, formidable barrier that is literally impassible. But this one will do no harm. The next brisk gust that blows through will send it on its way.

*****

Thank you, one and all, for the kind sentiments on my mother-in-law's birthday. We all appear to have recovered nicely from the weekend, and only a corner bit of the cake remains.

Next time, adventures in plying. Could it really be yarn sitting on that spindle?