Last Autumnal Breaths of Cadmium and Aureolin Yellow with Palm Warbler Only Passing Through

Last breaths of cadmium and aureolin yellow 

falling through another season of autumn . . . 

 as it falls through us . . . only passing through it all . . . 

Rock Maples stand mighty and tall.

Miscanthus yellow blazes sigh with tassels reaching upwards ten feet high. 

Standing nearby, soft rustling songs become more an undertone as lengthy, waving blades . . .  yellow . . .  then fade, and float towards the leafy floor. 

A brighter, fleeting yellow reflecting tones of our November garden and landscape . . . little Palm Warbler . . . only passing through, where I used to believe you stayed and bred your brood. You are headed south now to the southerly edges of the United States or perhaps you prefer the Caribbean after spending summer months in the brisk provinces of Canada.

I last sighted one of your kind in the month of April on his way to points further north. There was such a promise of green back then and plenty of food to keep this sunny songbird content in lingering within our community for a cluster of days.

I can see you are a different bird all together from the Palm Warbler I so delighted in this spring. Wishing you a safe journey to wherever you choose to overwinter and hopefully with vernal vegetation anew, I will be here to see your cheery, cadmium yellow plumes mirroring clumps of merry daffodils.

Tree Swallows do return and remain every spring and summer, raising spirited broods here in the south field within the weathered walls of our rustic nest box . . . now being choked by bittersweet as it takes its last gulps of duller yellow.

Our weepy cherry's yellow canopy now lies in a buttery carpet around its twenty-year old main stem.  

Asparagus gone wild, flames cobalt-yellow before our Metasequoia gone russet about the north field. 

A couple of our crabapple trees, within the small orchard, make shiny, yellow spheres . . . tiny apples tasty to birds, throughout the winter months.

While on the ground, beneath our oldest apple tree, the vermilion stream of fruit has become a favorite rivulet for our resident White-tailed Deer to step into. Soon the flow of apples will run dry and that is, as it should be.

Beware brown eyes . . . it is the hour of hunting season of your clan . . . by man . . . who hopes to eat you, apples and all. And I could say . . . if with integrity and honor this beautiful beast comes to be . . .  venison . . . that too might be . . . as it should be. Still, I will continue to whisper . . . "Stay close and you will be safe." Heed yellow's warning . . . with your usual caution . . . stepping through the land beyond this land.

Vermilion Murmurs and Malus within a November Landscape

Cinnabar and Dragon blood come to mind when seeing the vibrant vermilion sprays of our middle garden Japanese Maple. Its blazing breath reaches over towards payne's gray shadows racing through the forested hills, we call Walnut Hill and High Ridge, creating a stunning contrast. Sturdy oaks still grasping their last burnt sienna leaves are nearly naked now. The Japanese Maple is as out of place in our landscape as an ancient Dracaena cinnabari might be, but it is a dormant dragon so lifting the spirit with its late and lasting fiery vibrance. 

Viburnums have yet to let go of their purple leaves.

Cotinus, without the smoke, adds to the last of early November's crimson garden palette. 

Another sleeping dragon rests just below the farmhouse in our weeping Cutleaf Japanese Maple.

Other reds in the gardens this November are juicy spheres by the hundreds . . . apples remaining on, or below, the apple trees. We have a variety of Malus senior citizens about the gardens and are thankful to those who planted the ever giving trees, one at least, over a century ago.

Sedum 'Autumn Joy' still wearing its burgundy tones before aforementioned century old apple tree. 

A stream of free falls given a good wash make yummy apple sauce. 

Weeping crabapple outside of the little studio offers a tangy feast for over wintering birds.

Our Metasequoia in the north field spreads out her russet plumes.

In the south field sumac brightens the fading countryside.

Meanwhile, as bold colors depart and cold, chilly air arrives, I have added another warbler to my 'A Bestiary. . . Tales From A Wildlife Garden' over at Native Plants and Wildlife Gardens. The stout little Black-throated Blue Warbler becomes the twenty-fourth beast . . . the seventh warbler . . .  joining the bubbly bouquet of songbirds.

Glimpses of North and Middle Garden Walkabouts

Hydrangea arborescens 'Annabelle' 

Gray Catbird Eggs - Second Brood

Rosa Rugosa

Thermopsis villosa and White Birch before Walnut Hill

Chipping Sparrow in Nest

Chipping Sparrow Eggs 

Rosa Virginiana 

Female Indigo Bunting and Nestlings in a Peony!

Inidgo Bunting Nestlings  -  More on these later on. 

Tree Swallow Nestling Nearly Fledged 

Hydrangea macrophylla  'Nikko Blue'

Looking through Middle Gardens and Tree Swallow Nestbox towards Mount Holyoke Range

It is amazing to discover so many birds nesting in a small area of the gardens. I will be posting more on these particular families later. For today . . .  just a glimpse at a few of my observations while walking in the north and middle gardens over the last few days. 

 I eyed the White-tailed doe early one morning . . .  when she became aware of me . . .  she began making soft grunting sounds. I was certain there must be a fawn in the garden and that she was communicating with her tiny spotted baby.  I did scan carefully through the taller swathes of wildflowers and between shrubberies but could not discover the young deer. The doe walked around a bit seemingly unafraid of me. I followed her for some time . . . speaking softly . . .  while I took time to glance around at the other attractions in the garden.  After awhile . . .  upon coming inside . . .  I noticed her stepping along side her fawn under the 'Three Graces' Crabapples. The beautiful creatures soon leapt away down towards the blueberry fields and forest. 

With all the wildlife about . . . the gardens seem enchanted. 

Mysterious Misty May Monday Walkabout

Mist makes my world dreamy . . . walking around the north field looking up towards the middle gardens and house . . . everything is cloaked in a cool veil. The White and Gray Birch mirror the white of the old farmhouse and fading Viburnums.

The curtain of mist softens everything in the landscape so that the bodies of Black Cherry and White Birch appear in dialogue. I know this is a stretch but these are my fantasy white and black stallions. I should love to have horses.

Oak between White Birch calling out to one another.

Ghostly White Birch between Oak and Black Cherry . . . all stately stand. Beneath the earth their tentacles of roots connect and communicate. Above their limbs and branches sway, breathe and exhale. Their trunks or bodies are like other worldly beings. 

My Metasequoia (Dawn Redwood) and Apple trees spread their delicious deciduous canopies within the thick air. Dark trunks are like lines of charcoal chalk drawings in the landscape, while the spectral farmhouse sits in the distance longingly looking out beyond.

Metasequoia reaching out towards Black Cherry.

A surprise . . . within the mist and the Metasequoia . . .  I eye a beautiful Rose-breasted Grosbeak perched near the top. The leaves cut through the light with their unique form. 

Beads of mist clinging to the newly fanned out leaves. The Dawn Redwood is also known as  'water fir'.

The tiny fingered opposite leaves seem magical, when they reappear each year.

Moving up into the middle garden looking back through my funky English Hawthorn and Japanese Maple framing yet another shapely view of our native Black Cherry. 

Peonies dwarfed before Giant Rock Maples.

Shrubberies and Shagbark Hickory wearing Climbing Hydrangea all enjoying the moist canopy of air.

Gray Birch, Shrubberies and Rock Maples . . . now we are on the south side of the house.

Apples and Gray Birches beckon as we go down towards the Blueberry field. Iris and Daylilies stretch and soon will show their blooms.

Gray Birches and Tree Swallows. It must be refreshing to fly through the droplet filled air.

Apples as seen from the south field. Wildflowers are bathed in the moisture.

Later up in the front garden delicate forget-me-nots wearing water spheres. 

Pink Lily-of-the-Valley coated in misty dew.

Unfurling Hostas

Lupine leaves wear the jewel-like drops very well. There is a lovely sense of mystery walking about the gardens in this misty shroud. I love how the feeling is so altered from a bright sunny day. The trees all seem to be engaged in dialogue and stand out more sculpture like in the landscape. The coolness feels good on  my skin and must be delightful to trunks, limbs and leaves. Later the sun breaks through and all is clear and dry again. I am thankful for this brief dewy interlude.