I've had a chronic case of forgot-my-camera-itis lately. We took three hikes this weekend, and I have not one single picture to show for it. That's okay, though, because it led to the discovery of bumblebees in my asters.For anyone who fretted over last Friday's rather down-in-the-dumps sounding post, rest assured. Like metamorphosis, the sorry worries of the situation have split and sloughed off, revealing something rather astonishing and bright. Potential.
We've been graced with a last sweet gasp of low-70s weather this weekend. Hence the three hikes. The promised frost did not show up Saturday night, at least not in my garden. It's Columbus Day weekend; tomorrow we all have to hunker down and get real. Winter is on its way. The carefree, doo-wah-diddy days of summer are gone. It's time, I think, for another little preparations series.
Mums are an important piece. Especially, mums which complement the craggy green porch-pumpkin.
We've been graced with a last sweet gasp of low-70s weather this weekend. Hence the three hikes. The promised frost did not show up Saturday night, at least not in my garden. It's Columbus Day weekend; tomorrow we all have to hunker down and get real. Winter is on its way. The carefree, doo-wah-diddy days of summer are gone. It's time, I think, for another little preparations series.
Mums are an important piece. Especially, mums which complement the craggy green porch-pumpkin.
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