lovely indeed

yesterday morning, i heard this cacophony over our roof.  ducks?  canada geese?  a mass migration of something.  i tried to go back to what i was doing, but the birds just seemed to keep coming - as if there were only one path from north to south, and it was directly over our house.

so, finally, i went outside to investigate....

 crows!

when i first stepped out our back door, a treetop in our neighbor's backyard appeared to be the primary hostess for the crow congregation.  which would explain why the flight path sounded as if it was directly over our roof.  yet, just a handful of minutes later, the crows resettled their murder (yes, indeed, this is what a group of crows is called) in the treetops across the street.  as i watched, they streamed back and forth between the two competing trees, cawing loudly for followers.

 

i'm not particularly fond of crows, although i know they are highly intelligent and revered by many.  they are not delicate birds.  their voice is harsh.  they are not colorful, in the sense of having a variety of hues.  even the sunlight doesn't turn their darkness into an iridescence, which sometimes happens with black.

but i decided, on this morning, to be awed by them.  it turns out that one crow is not, to me, a thing of beauty.  but a murder of crows is lovely indeed.

garden therapy

it has rained SO much over the past two weeks!  feeling a mite symptomatic of garden withdrawal, i remedied this today.  i started the morning by getting our new gardenia in the ground.  i planted it next to my poor, struggling gardenia - which might, you'd think, be a bad idea.  because why is the first gardenia struggling?  but i tend to be an optimistic (and opportunistic) gardener, so in it went!  even through the recent rain, i've been loving the zinnias that continue to bloom in my summer plot.  i, especially, like the quirky ones.  i think the tall stand of goldenrod was blocking some of the afternoon sun, so a few of the zinnia took on some twists & turns.

zinnia

the goldenrod had a short bloom this year - or, at least, that's how it felt.  maybe i've just been busy.  the yellow tassles are long-turned to seed & no more insects prowl around the stalks.  the yard is, slowly, being tamed by the change in season - the exuberant summertime growth fading back to reveal the garden's bones.

autumnal goldenrod

the sweet olive bloomed a few weeks ago.  &, right next to it, is our sasanqua camellia, which is covered in pink flowers right now.  a last sweet sip for the bees before death or hibernation, i'm not sure which.

but, mainly, what i did today was...rake acorns.

i will hazard a guess that there were (are) 893,716 acorns in our front yard.  actually, let's just call it an even million.  this is the first year in a looooong time that i have, actually, raked acorns.  i usually just save my efforts for the leaves.  but we are swimming in acorns this year!  it is downright treacherous out there.  the tricky thing is, what does one do with a million (or so) acorns?  i try my best not to make the yard waste picker-upper-people irritated at me.  such as loading innocent-looking yard waste buckets with a million acorns.  that's enough to get the handles of your yard waste buckets yanked right off.  so i am feeding the acorns to them slowly.  thus, our yard currently resembles a minefield of prairie dog mounds.  except the mounds are made of acorns.  (either that or i've made a really nifty obstacle course for when the boys play football.)

in memoriam...what remains of the pronged dogwood.  we miss it.

i really should've done a 'before & after,' but you can just reference the close-up of the acorns and imagine that over the entire yard.  i think i raked for at least three hours.  to do half of the front yard.  so, now, my acorn mounds await empty buckets.  then i'll do the other half of the yard.  so, pretty much, i will be raking acorns forever.  my mother has suggested renting a pig, which i am starting to consider.

 from the perspective of the acorns,

many of which my rake yanked loose from the soil

where they were attempting to turn into trees.

it does seem that i have managed to alleviate all garden withdrawal symptoms.  they have been replaced by extremely sore arms.  and shoulders.  and back.  and legs.  let's just call it my entire body.  i consider that a fair trade.

brought to you by the letter S

October sky

it's always a treat to have my parents visit me at work ~

today was the fall festival at my main school,

so we posed for a school photo!

and, later, we went for a superbly sunny stroll....

Nana, Joseph, Grandpa, Samuel

we sauntered from our house to have lunch together.

(see video clip below)

taking this photo, i realized

i need to get more of these two brothers together.

~ time flies ~

 

seriously?  when did this happen?

wet leaves

sometimes, you've just got to tell it like it is.

&, i'm telling you, i am tired of the rain.

i am, also, tired of the acorns,

which are like a roly-poly carpet across our front yard.

it's like trying to walk through the fun house at the state fair.

there are other things i'm tired of, too.

 ~

but, hey, this leaf sure is beautiful!

isn't it?

just weird enough

i think i like it because, well, it's just weird enough.

to dazzle my eye & pique my ear.

and it pleases me to know that

just weird enough

is right here.

this is the perfect kind of weather,

the tumult of somersaulting

into autumn,

for what is self-titled

kaleidophrenic cabaret.

a new album concept,

which you have fifty-five hours left to fund,

pairs this aural kaleidoscope with dreamscape photography.

 a little bit of steampunk.

a little bit of sky.

lunging photographer (i'm not the only one fascinated)

fire show warm-up in the parking lot.

 this performance

was part of the downtown

Third Thursday,

which is revitalizing

an area just south

of the railroad tracks.

train signals above renovated building (soon-to-be restaurant!)

bubbling cauldrons (or maybe not)

the autumn sky over my just weird enough city.

flower moon

this was the moon the night before the blood moon eclipse.

lifemarks & vegetables

there, really, is nothing like waking up in my childhood home & having breakfast with my mom and dad...no matter how old i am.  i even got to use my mom's new favorite coffee cup.  lucky me!

my hometown is filled with markers of growing up and nascent adulthood.  not just landmarks....lifemarks.  the familiar radius brims over with memory triggers, most of which elicit a hum of happiness in my heart.  oh, there's plenty new in town - or updated, in any case.  i love it all.

flower staging area at the farmer's market, saturday morning

we were on the hunt for an early birthday gift (to me!), and i was quite dazzled by the vegetables.  but i ended up going with a gardenia, which i will plant tomorrow.  i think, in the end, i will be quite happy with my decision.  it was tough - eggplant? turnip? sweet potato?  lots of competition, but the gardenia finally won out.  here's a photo essay of the vegetable birthday gift contenders.... (those who know me well know i am just joshing.  flowers & chocolate.  end of story.)

 

my mom left a car for us to find in the parking lot of the farmer's market.  (she carpooled to the beach with a friend.)  turned out that was (slightly) like finding a needle in a haystack, even though my parents' old car has some distinctive markings (see below).  after all the farmer's market fun (including running into an old high school friend!), i tailed my dad to our lunch date - and he had a fun time sticking his arm out the window & pointing to all the edifices of my childhood (there's your elementary school!  there's your high school!) as well as some gawk-worthy new buildings (there's the montrosity of a castle someone is building right next to that sweet little cottage, totally blocking out all hopes of sunlight forever & ever).  he, also, pointed out part of the bike-friendly greenway, which my parents are ticking off in ten-mile (or more!) increments.

Dad was headed to the live opera simulcast from the Met at a local movie theater (to which he, unsuccessfully, attempted to lure me), so we had lunch at the very francois (& nearby) Coquette.  delish!

mushroom soup & side of brussel sprouts - yum!

my sweet Dad

& this....just because.

art femmes & an art walk

sky & umbrella while waiting for Diana

my left foot, as seen through the tabletop

Diana

sixteen years ago, our houses catty-corner & our babies still just that.  could she bottle up her beautiful tennessee voice?  so that i can slow down and listen to it every now&then (since we see each other so rarely), uncorking the neck of the bottle long enough for just a little to escape and make me smile.  i wish this link had the audio clip attached...she is a poet, my friend.  which is lovely ~ amazing ~ inspiring.  she is patient and kind - and lives life, in my observations, consciously and with measure.

button curtain at Elsewhere

Ivy

maybe eleven years ago, in the blurry years of parenting young children, friends of a friend, we have overlapping branches and sturdy roots that help anchor a friendship when life is so busy and conversations are fragmented.  for all her planning and method-making, she is equally comfortable taking the road less traveled.  in fact, i think she prefers it.  & she is a wordsmith - with visions and projects and a veracity i greatly admire.

The Friendly Naturalist, presented at Elsewhere

so many (so many!) of my friends are creatives.  but for me, it's about openness, truthfulness, attentiveness.  a sincerity in living that is not dependent upon ego.  a knowledge of beauty in the mundane and a commitment to love with conscience.  to me, that's what nourishes art, creativity, and our friendships.

Art Walk in a Garden

this is a pirate trio.  as the dollmaker explained, the one on the left is pre-ghost; the one on the right is mid-ghost; and the one in the middle is full-on-ghost.  (i have one of her mermonster dolls, whom i have named Esmeralda.)

 

the most beautiful octopus sculpture i have ever seen.  & it is a carafe, too (bonus!).  alas, the price matches my feelings for the piece &, thus, it will remain elusive.

absolutely gorgeous
painted stork
and (mayhaps?)
cassowary
garden sculptures.

octopus wood sculpture

artist friends & friends who love art

beauty berries, of course.

we, also, like to eat in artistic places.

about a week ago, i saw that the magnolia blossoms along the driveway (not ours, but branches extend our way) had given way to seedpods - so i plucked one & brought it inside.

i will leave it
at that ~
& the artists
will know exactly
why it is
here.