The soft tap tap tap of rain on leaves as it plashes down the bower, a stirring of the air, crisp, damp, foggy breath'd and fecund. Rich with Autumn's grandeur, a paintbox worth of color dappled on turning leaves. One lone small maple leans out towards the light, out from beneath the larger trees which perch over the steep creek bed. A mixed hardwood & softwood jungle, lush and deep with muted plinks and susurruses. Soon to be a blended pallet of yellows, oranges, pinks, purples & reds, with the piney greens as stark contrast to deciduous leavings. Staid companions, these conifers betwixt the broad-leafed majesties. I stand on the bridge taking just a moment before off I go to toil for my daily bread to listen closely to the primeval songs of this place, the music of the mountains, the sonata of the forest. And now, the Song Dogs add their voices to the orchestra, a rich blend of contralto, bass & soprano rising primitive up the scales of our hearts. The night's full moon still lingers in the soft silvered light, caressing the morning, loathe to leave. As I am.
A bit of a whimsy which has adorned the Aldars since we moved here.
Cry Havoc! And release the Goats of War! The Royal Goat Court at work browzing back the blackberries, clearing the feral parts of the land, and fertilizing a potential new garden.
The fernleaf maple (Acer japonicum f. aconitifolium) is in full display. What gorgeous purples and mauves! I love this tree!
These cottonwoods sing to me. Between these and the Sequoias, it sounds like the ocean murmuring along a pebbly beach. I love their fall golds, and their songs are... nurturing to something deep within me. I miss the ocean, miss being close enough to stand at her shores with my naked feet in her waters, but the Cottonwoods soothe that missing.
I caught the light shimmering sweetly on the fall-kissed leaves of the Coral Bark Maples (Acer palmatum 'Sango Kaku') This is another tree I just love, with her winter interest, and her chartreuse tresses.
Another of the Coral Bark, with the Gladstone tree peering behind her shoulder. This was a volunteer from Dianne's old house. We are happy to have the living connection to Happy Rock.
My old bridge. It was poorly made, and I paid too much for it. I will move it this Spring, to in front of the pond, and plant a vine (maybe a clematis!) I'm also going to dredge the canoe out of the pond, plop it also in front of the pond, and use it as a flower bed.
One of the Ancona ducks, our second generation.
Another of the Fernleaf Maple, with the light behind it.
This is a wild maple in the creek. I don't know what kind it is, and I didn't catch it early enough when the sun filters through and just lights it up. But it is a lovely golden spot of brightness within the green of the creek bed.
This morning, it is foggy and drizzly, and everything is silvered. Yesterday was golden. I am surrounded by precious metal lightness! Everything is Light. EVERYTHING.