Lasselanta

[altivo]

Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,
yéni únótimë ve rámar aldaron!
[Ah! like gold fall the leaves in the wind,
long years numberless as the wings of trees!]
--Galadriel, in Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring

It's upon us already. It seems as if there was hardly a summer this year, the weather was so strange, but the birds are starting to flock in the trees. What was an occasional stray leaf on the ground has already multiplied into about one per square foot here. Some maple trees seem to be kindling into color very early indeed, and the sumac at the top of Marengo Ridge has gone crimson even before the goldenrod is finished blossoming.

We still have hummingbirds daily, but no way to know whether they are the same ones that were here all summer. Have those been replaced by transient birds, already starting their migration? It seems possible. Acorns are falling, squirrels are busy gathering them. So are the chipmunks, scurrying about and stuffing their little faces, then running off into their burrows.

The very belated pole beans in the garden have finally begun to blossom. With luck, the frost will hold off long enough for us to get a few beans out of it, but I'm not counting on it.

The approaching season leaves us with much to do. Yesterday I ordered a new blanket for Tess, so she can be out for short periods even if it is windy and cold. Hopefully wading in the snow will keep her hooves from drying out as badly as they did the last two winters. She won't like it much, but sometimes life is hard. Tomorrow will mark the second week of the new school year that classes have been in the library on Friday for stories and to check out books to read.

Banned Books Week is almost here, and the wildflower beds outside the glass wall are no longer a riot of purple, pink, and white. The remaining flowers are all yellow as egg yolk: goldenrod, prairie sunflower, compass plant. What I really notice though is the oak leaves falling at home.

Oaks can develop intense color when the weather is just right, but I've never figured out what the ideal conditions are. In an ordinary year, the oak leaves just turn brown over a period of weeks and then flutter to the ground. We already have brown leaves strewn over the grass. I don't know whether to wish for a hard frost that might turn the oaks to brilliant reds and maroons, or to hope for a long, slow autumn without a frost, so that we may yet get something from the garden and the apples and fall raspberries have their full five weeks or so of glory.

I do know one thing, though. This weekend I am going to find some apple cider, from fresh apples, somewhere.

Comments

[avon-deer.livejournal.com]

I love Autumn. It's quite simply my favourite time of year. Though I do always get reminded that I have not collected enough firewood.

[herefox.livejournal.com]

I'd send you some of our summer if I could. It's been very hot the last month or so and I'm sort of done with the on fire season.

[zenicurean.livejournal.com]

I always forget how wonderful Quenya is!

[cabcat.livejournal.com]

We had a beautiful oak on the corner of our street in a neighbours yard...unfortunately the big storm we had in November snapped it like a week old bread stick. I do miss it and it's wonderful colour changes. Most trees around here are evergreens so the change of seaons isn't noticed too much by the trees.