After one of the longest Indian Summers on record (and 81 days without a drop of rain!), I no longer have to water my garden. The rains have arrived, along with heightened color in the woods. The birds have returned for free lunches at the bird feeder and squirrels–still hopeful they can grab a snack, too–have again begun doing their best to outwit the spring-loaded feeder. They must be slow learners. No such luck, guys.
Will the owls be heard again at night as they look for game scrambling through the still-crisp leaves that give away their location?
I love the seasonal changes and my flowers and shrubs are now enjoying almost daily drinks even as they begin a winter rest before they bloom again. What remains to be seen is if the new bulbs recently planted will come up or be eaten by the moles, and whether the rescued rose bush, a mere woody stump last year will, next year, set blooms. I hope, I hope.
