The Morning Walk

The morning walks are nice in the fall. It's like having the universe to yourself, along with one or two dog-walkers.

This is the way the pond looks at 7:30 in the morning.
I love the eerie quality misting the area and even the ducks seem subdued as they quietly paddle about their business.

This is perfect walking weather--it's not cold yet, just pleasantly crisp.

Naked Ladies

MADE YOU LOOK didn't I?


I'd never heard of these little beauties until a few years ago.
A friend offered me the bulbs, declaring they provide attractive green leaves in the early summer but never bloom.

Lucky for me she is one of those neat freaks and doesn't glance into her garden once August is done.

Because in September these little beauties, officially named Colchicums, spring up looking like a bunch of giant crocus.


There are no sheltering leaves, hence the name naked ladies.

Bloom on, ladies.

A Miniature Harvest

Close your eyes and imagine paintings of harvest time; muscled peasants hauling carts laden with hay, aproned women bent over rows of vegetables,with a promise of more fields to labor before winter sets in.

Now open your eyes and visit my world, where the crop is planted in four raised beds the size of a double-wide coffin. (At my age, we tend to think in realistic terms.)

It's such a rush to pluck food out of the garden and make wild promises to oneself to aacomplish even more next year. That would probably have been more realistic when I was forty, but optimism reigns.

At first I thought this squash was going to be a pumpkin; I enclosed it in a mesh bag while it grew, to divert the nocturnal garden visitors, and I would have been pleased whichever it was.
I thought the onions would be the size of soccer balls but they chose to be petite.

I also turned my attention to using every one of the large crop of Roma tomatoes. Oven dried was my solution to one batch and here is the result. I took notes so I'll have them aced next time.

My neighbors gave me three cuttings of this yellow raspberry six years ago and now I have a flourishing grove. they produce to the end of July, take a rest and produce again in September.
There is always enough for two days worth to munch with the breakfast cereal.

This is such a satisfying time and each day there is something else to be dug up and cured and stored.

Next I want to figure out a modern day version of a root cellar that will be stationed outside my kitchen door.

Carrot togetherness

Today's harvest.
Is this the carrots' way of telling me I planted them too close together?