From Under the Sea-Wind 1941 by Rachel Carson:
Before sunset, the skies lightened and the wind abated. While it was yet light the sanderlings left the barrier island and set out across the sound. Beneath them as they wheeled over the inlet was the deep green ribbon of the channel that wound, with many curvings, across the lighter shallows of the sound. They followed the channel, passing between the leaning red spar buoys, past the tide rips where the water streamed, broken into swirls and eddies, over a sunken reef of oyster shell, and came at last to the island. There they joined a company of several hundred white-rumped sandpipers, least sandpipers, and ring-necked plovers that were resting on the sand.
While the tide was still ebbing, the sanderlings fed on the island beach…. As they slept, and as the earth rolled from darkness toward light, birds from many feeding places along the coast were hurrying along the flyways that led to the north. For with the passing of the storm the air currents came fresh again and the wind blew clean and steady from the southwest. All through the night the cries of curlews and plovers and knots, of sandpipers and turnstones and yellowlegs, drifted down from the sky. The mockingbirds who lived on the island listened to the cries. The next day they would have many new notes in their rippling, chuckling songs to charm their mates and delight themselves.
About an hour before dawn the sanderling flock gathered together on the island beach, where the gentle tide was shifting the windrows of shells. The little band of brown-mottled birds mounted into the darkness and, as the island grew small beneath them, set out toward the north.
2006
September days have the warmth of summer in their briefer hours, but in their lengthening evenings a prophetic breath of autumn. Rowland E Robinson
"Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower."
Albert Camus
2004
9 8 2004 In our new Zone 6 garden, everyday is an adventure. Hubby called me out to view blue mushrooms which, after searching on the internet, found them to be Lactarius indigo/Blue Milk Mushroom. They are edible. Out under the dogwoods the mosses grow and springing up unexpectedly under the oaks are Fungi that are new to me...so many varieties and colors. In addition to Blue are also Orange Milk Mushrooms. Poisonous Russulas with their red caps push up through the grass. Some of the brown ones look like flowers as their caps mature and split. It's a mycologist heaven out there.
Victoria's streets are lined with ancient chestnut trees of tremendous girth with regular intervals of old fashioned street lamps hung with bountiful baskets of flowers that are watered by a city night crew. Seemingly there's a coffee shop on every corner with yummy pastries. Little bakeries, restaurants with outdoor tables, and grocers with lots of flowers are everywhere. The weather is mild. Therefore, windows and doors are open. The streets are full of old and young alike. It's totally safe even after dark. Vibrant colored flowers adorn dwellings forming mini gardens here and there. There is a great sense of community.
The harbor lined with grand old hotels like the Empress bustles with cruise ship tourists. Parliament buildings rise stately from the surroundings. The low moan of the cruiser's horn calls to it's passengers and gulls overhead cry out to each other. What a wonderful destination!
I just love the
cool mornings of autumn. The stainless steel teakettle whistles it's
readiness as I prepare my favorite cup for a carmel latte to take with me.
Ensconced in the aroma of the brew and the warm cup being the best of hand
warmers, off I go to see nature's daily offering. Our black cat, Thomas, is
sitting on his haunches with his tail encirling his feet
waiting for his breakfast. Trying not to trip over him, I begin my garden
tour with him, weaving in and out about my feet. It's a sunny clear blue sky day
and we soak up the warm sunshine as we continue on our way seeking the sunny
spots where we used to seek shade. The squirrels are scampering
around the tree trunks in a game of chase; the beautiful colorful leaves
are intermittently fluttering by; and the scent of a wood fire is in the
air. At the end of the path, what a wonderful sight is this billowing four foot
breadth of hardy pink chrysanthemums Clara Curtis. Their golden
eyes beckon me on. Lingering over their color and happy daisy-like form
refreshes my spirit and off I go to survey what must be done today.
