Colors of September

September is a season unto itself.  Summer holds on to the hem of autumn with warmth of days, while fall sneaks into the year with chilled nights. 

 

Leaves shaded with leopard and tiger like stripes warn of the advancing year. 

I like them very much for their exotic coloring, but the red, orange, and golden hues of autumn await to be called for the grand show.

Soybean fields are turning from green to yellow to brown as temperatures linger in September modes of chill nights and warm days. 

I love this time of year when apples redden, pumpkins turn orange, and golden corn stalks and bright bales of straw decorate suburban homes, but...

 there are still pink zinnias in the garden. 

Linking up with Rural Thursday today.  

The Flowers of September

The calendar may say September, but it's still summer in the garden. The zinnias are blooming in bright and pale pinks with a few whites and oranges in the mix. A bouquet of flowers that includes Queen Anne's Lace adds just the right touch of sweet feminine.

Orange is a loud color that seems to scream look at me, but oh how I love orange in the fall.  Until the frost is on the pumpkin, making due with an orange zinnia works. 

Then there's the whisper of white zinnias.

A small rose blooms along side the garage. It was nearly choked out of existence last year by an overly vivacious trumpet vine, but its hearty nature won out.  It was still blooming in late November.  This summer it weathered the drought and is in a full flush of tiny blooms with a blush of color before opening.

I love photographing flowers using the macro setting.  The little rose above is only an inch or two across at the most; the buds even smaller.  Through the wonder of technology we can capture every detail from the secret center to the blemishes on the outside petal.

And sometimes it's a different perspective that creates a delightful surprise.  I totally ignored the law of thirds in every one of these photos and I don't care. 

Break rules, have fun, and capture all that makes you smile, dance, sing, and sometimes weep. 

Seeing September Out

The days of September whisked by with speed that rivals flapping hummingbird wings making their way over ripening fields of soybeans in an Ohio sunset toward winter warmth and light.  Tomorrow begins the frightful month of October with Halloween and long leggity beasties and things that go bump in the night, but today it’s still September.

In September...

Pink hollyhocks twirl about tall spires

Zinnias in pink, red, orange, and cream find the autumn light

Herbs continue scenting the fall breeze

Gaillardias remind of south of the border places

While family and friends create hundreds of tamales on a single, September Saturday

A gift of bittersweet for fall decorating

And lobsters, fresh from New England waters, find their way to an Ohio dinner table

Yes, September is a fine month and I shall miss it as leaves turn, Jack Frost paints pumpkins with frost, and ghouls and goblins take over the night.

Hello September

Hello September! School is back in session, the light appears later in the morning and fades earlier in the evening, while an earthy aroma whispers change. I welcome autumn harvests, red apples, blooming chrysanthemums, orange pumpkins, whimsical gourds, and corn shocks all shining under a harvest moon.

The bounty of the garden spills into my kitchen with delectable results...

Summer squash au gratin

Canned whole ‘Roma’ tomatoes 

Fresh salsa

Stuffed peppers

Tomato Bingo Anyone?

The glory days of sunflowers towering over the garden are passing as bulbous heads bowed low salute nature’s change of seasons. The final sunflower has opened her face to the sun and I stand beneath heaving an audible sigh of appreciation.

I am not the only creature that benefitted from all that sunflowers offer; bees, covered in yellow pollen, danced around the spheres sipping and collecting. Butterflies lit on this year’s favorite flower and a goldfinch hung precariously, nearly upside, snatching a not-ready-for-prime-eating seed or two.

I think I will miss the sunflowers most of all. As Vincent Van Gogh remarked, “The sunflower is mine, in a way.” Well it’s mine in a way, too and I have taken over a hundred photos hoping that just one will capture the essence of a sunflower.

Cutting a sunflower head in its crowning golden glory of petals was one of the hardest things I did in my garden this year. I treasured each one and while I love cut flowers, scanning often requires removal of stems. So I float the head in water enjoying it for as long as possible knowing that long after the stems have been cut down I’ll have colored memories.

Come in September.  I'm so glad you're here!