Rustlers

 Most of the leaves are down here now. At early dog walking time the few that cling, bitter in the branches, make their presence known.

They rattle and hiss and sing their songs of late and lost and make the chill wind colder.

Orion is modest this cool fall dawn. A kilt of clouds is snug around his middle and a shawl draped mistily across his shield and shoulder. I appreciate his concern for my delicate sensibilities, but no matter what he wears, winter is still coming. I blame him for that...

But maybe he's just cold.

Some day I want to get some Winterberry Holly
for the yard. Meanwhile the swamps are ablaze with it

It has been one of the most beautiful Autumns in recent memory, taking me back to elementary school over in Fonda, (county offices now), where we played under the shedding maples, building forts and outlining "houses" with piles of leaves. Even then I was nobody's girly-girl, preferring that my golden enclosures be imaginary horse stables and corrals. 

No bright maples up here on the hill and I miss them. When we lived in town, I used to coax the village workers into bringing me the bags of leaves folks set out for pickup. I would dump them all inside my little fenced in garden down there and in spring rake them off the beds into the paths. In the few years we lived there the soil went from ashes and clinkers brought in as fill, hard as concrete and about as fertile, to rich, black earth that grew fine flowers and vegetables....alas, it is but a lawn now. Up here the soil is absurdly fertile, as evidenced by cannas that grow feet above my head every summer with minimal care.

Anyhow, we are still digging cannas...ugh, what a job!!! and dragging them indoors for winter. I have forced myself to leave a few summer hanging plants outside to freeze. It about kills me to let them go, but I KNOW they will not winter. Instead they will set up little aphid nurseries and infest all the other plants, so into the frostfire it is for them. I still feel guilty.

Ruddy Duck

Meanwhile birding has been sporadic at best and downright boring at worst. I blame the great weather. Why fly south when you can feast up here, fattening up for a slightly delayed escape later? Best recent bird has been a recurring Ruddy Duck up in the Lyker's area. I do love me a Ruddy Duck.

 These days, I am trying to rustle up the nerve to go chase the Ross's Goose in Collins Lake. It's only in Scotia for Pete's sake! Why am I so timid about going down there? Why am I so timid in general?

Dagnabbit.