I loaded these photos on October 2nd--a week ago--and didn't return to caption or write about the walk.
These were noted on the almost daily trudge around the mowed half mile loop of our property.
There have been changes in only a week.
Wild Ageratum
When we bought this property in the fall of 2018 several years of neglect had allowed underbrush and native plants to crowd in from the wooded edges of the north and south ravines.
In addition to clumps of blue ageratum, there were banks of jewelweed, shaggy heads of Joy Pye weed, goldenrod, frost asters.
Seven summers of mowing and bush-hogging have tidied the perimeter edges of the meadow and the area below the house.
There are still wildflowers, weeds, invasive tangles of wild rose and honeysuckle.
Each year the groupings of plants are a bit different.
In late September I noticed a few stalks of deep purple ironweed, one of my favorite fall wildlings.
I forgot to take my camera on my walks for several days; the rains came on and when I walked that way again the ironweed was long past its brilliance.
Time and weather don't wait for us.
Snakeroot
A clump of white snakeroot growing in the shade just off the meadow path.
From wikipedia: White snakeroot contains the toxin tremetol; when the plants are consumed by cattle, the meat and milk become contaminated with the toxin. When milk or meat containing the toxin is consumed, the poison is passed on to humans.
During the early 19th century, when large numbers of European Americans from the East, who were unfamiliar with snakeroot, began settling in the plant's habitat of the Midwest and Upper South, many thousands were killed by milk sickness. Notably, milk sickness was possibly the cause of death in 1818 of Nancy Hanks Lincoln, mother of Abraham Lincoln
New England asters aka Michaelmas daisies--a variety grown several years ago from seed purchased from Prairie Moon Nursery. The asters have appeared in several shades of lavender, dusty purple and rose, spreading vigorously. This clump has since been dug up and moved to over-winter in one of the large black tubs. My efforts at wildflower gardening need an overhaul.
Jim mowed the veg garden on September 1st after harvesting what the drought had spared.
There seemed no point in attempting the usual fall crops after weeks of watering while heat and drought prevailed.
Showers during the last full week of September prompted the seeds from rotted cucumbers and melons to burst through the soil. Sadly, no growing season left for the plants to flower and set fruit.
We aren't big fans of cherry tomatoes although judging by the prices on a small carton in the supermarkets they are to be considered a gourmet item.
Several plants volunteered at the edge of one of the black bins and J. allowed them to grow.
They have sprawled and clambered in a tangle of branches, setting hundreds of bite-sized tomatoes.
I eat a few when I walk past the bins, have smashed at least a dozen plump green hornworms discovered chomping their way along the stems.
It seems that once planted a garden will never be without them.
Heads of dwarf sunflowers were picked clean by goldfinches before the rains came. Jim mowed through the stalks when he cut grass earlier this week.
Early in September I tunked some strangled roots of spearmint from a pot and poked them into the dirt outside the greenhouse door, spared a bit of water to settle them in.
Surprisingly, there is fresh growth and the stirring up of the soil encouraged catnip to spring up.
A healthy clump of catnip by the barn door.
I must remember to cut and dry some for the winter entertainment of our house cats.
Clematis Jackmanii has made an effort at fall bloom.
Dr. Ruppel on the opposite side of the trellis has put forth fresh leaf growth but only a few late blossoms.
The time of year has arrived when blooming plants, wild or cultivated, are cherished as days grow shorter and the nights take on autumn chill.
