An early appointment the day of the storm had me awake closer to daybreak than usual.
As I walked across the living room, I noticed that the leaves of the houseplant, that “found it’s window” several years ago were trembling.
Even though they calmed to stillness when I stopped walking, I kept looking at the leaves.
I perceived that I saw them start to move again, growing, turning, yearning for pale dawn light.
Movement in the yard drew my eyes through the window, beyond the plant.
There, a sentinel doe draws attention from her young buck as they breakfast. His rack raw and white, velvet recently scraped, now ready for rut, ready for winter.
Though the leaves are somewhat subdued this year, the sky has been spectacular.
A rare autumn this, nearly entirely from green to brown. This week the golds of birch and tamarack though sparse, are welcome punctuation to otherwise dull vegetation.
Lichens… never alone.
The UK website www.theanswerbank.co.uk offers interesting answers to questions about lichens:
First snow this week settled on lawn and between lichen covered blue stone. Not much off rain with some sleet mixed in, the indifferent coating comprised of meager barely ripe flakes as is common this time of season.
Fat wet snowflakes sometimes describe the same pattern as lichen when they land on stone.
Lichens it turns out, are two animals in one.
A lichen is a composite organism that arises from algae or cyanobacteria living among filaments of multiple fungi in a mutualistic relationship. The combined lichen has properties different from those of its component organisms…
This birch, too close to neighbor hemlock, grows leaning, finds sun where it can. This wet pale October shows little more color than this birch scar.
Maple splashes yellow here and faraway there. Squalls alternate sun, blue and wet across the sky. Playful youngsters now, they’ll mature as real cold sets, getting running starts from west of Erie.
Almost snow today, cold to soon come. Any last colors will present, dry and fall as seasons deepen.
While enjoying the temperature and clarity of a fine October morning, the distinctive honking of geese punctuated an otherwise calm mist rising from the valley.
After what seemed like minutes, the gaggle revealed itself. Flying at a considerable altitude, these birds were not commuting across the neighborhood; they were on their way with intent.
From the back of the yard, a doe snorts, flashes buff from the tall grass, comes to attention, ears poised, eyes intent, gauging me as friend or threat.
The shadow crossing the sun and yard pulls my eyes up as a tree top turkey vulture pulses wings toward unobstructed sky.
Colors seep slowly stronger, gilding leaves and hills, on this fine October morning.
A second generation dragon’s tooth volunteer clings to the last of a goldenrod.
One of the last sunsets of Summer.
Faded green valleys vent a recent rain.
Golden rod color illuminates the landscape.
Barely a splash of maple or oak to be seen.