I didn’t expect to find these roses blooming on an October day.
Ron hung this swing for me years ago. I wanted the children to enjoy a rope swing like the one my daddy made for me when I was a girl.
This slate was moved from the back forty and makes a nice roadway to the pasture where Brenna’s horses graze and butterflies flutter through the last flowers- asters and coreopsis.
The sky fills with billowing clouds in the hot afternoon.
There is plenty of humidity evaporating from last night’s rainfall.
The boy’s treehouse looks small now. The tree is a giant!
I think this is Virginia Creeper with black berries. Who knows? isn’t it beautiful. It is hanging in heavy swags from the limbs of one of the oak trees out back.
Asparagus with orange berries.
Figs still not ripe. I have harvested a few and eaten them. They are so sweet when they ripen to a dark purplish brown. The smell of fig leaves makes me think they must all be ripe. I can smell it across the yard.
Ron grafted four or five types of pecans on this tree which towers over me. I stood under it to take the photo of the top branches.
Whitey and Lily stopped to watch me coming across the pasture. Did you bring us an apple?
New York Aster grows by the porch under the Crepe Myrtle tree.
My red roses have become confused and are leafing out and budding trying to bloom again.
An old bird house hangs on the porch. See the spider web?
My old wicker rocker has had a hard and long life. Brenna’s dog stole my nice cushion.
Zinnias are a favorite.
Don’t you love how a weeping willow sweeps and sways in a breeze?
Marigolds against a red wood fence. They are the perfect orange for fall.
New York Asters.
A gulf Fritillary gathering nectar.
I think this might be Blue Sage.
This is Sneezeweed. It is well-named and grows in many pastures.
Old barbed wire fences are strung along on old stob posts. A soft yellow flower fills the whole pasture with bright yellow color. Sunflowers and Jerusalem artichokes wave along roadsides and fences.
Flowers blooming just outside the garage.
A basket hung out to dry.
My white porch rocker.
Wood in the rack waiting for a night cold enough to build our first wood stove fire.
Salt Marsh Fleabane still holds rounded mounds of purple flowers . Soon cold weather will set in and we will miss the green grass, the leafy shade trees and wildflowers. Goodbye summer.