Autumn Color - Part 1

I dropped Seamus and Fergus off at the groomer for their autumn haircuts. On the way home, I noticed what beautiful autumn scenery surrounded me, so I took a few detours in order to get some photos:

We were only at 40% color at the time according to the weather report, but it was glorious color:

I'd say that the woods bordering farm fields were more than 40% along:

These old hay bales appeared to have been there beside the road for years, but they framed the picture nicely:

One of the roads I took was called Pleasant Valley Road, which was fitting:

I've become adept at recognizing Roughleaf Dogwood in spring bloom and autumn color, even from a distance. That's it in the bottom right hand corner:

I took a detour though a tiny settlement called West Stockbridge and passed by this lovely lake:

The trees on the far side were beginning to take on color, and the lake itself was filled with Canada Geese and waterlilies:

The shoreline of the lake was home to New England Asters, dried Queen Anne's Lace and Cattails:

And the trees beside the lake were displaying lovely colors:

I took one last photo of the lake and then continued on my way:

Passing through farm country, I kept my eyes open for trees abutting hay fields and corn fields. But I knew there were even more colorful trees to be seen as I got closer to home, so I kept going. I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Wetlands And Wildflowers - Part 3

The dogs and I had walked eastward on the Rutland Trail (see also previous two posts), but had turned back toward our parked car:

I was amazed at the spectacular display of New England Asters:

And the dogs were by this point walking calmly with me instead of running ahead:

They always seemed to aim for the puddles, though:

Clover, ever the little adventurer, pushed back through the brush towards a wetland area. Then she decided against it and watched me to see if we were continuing on. We were, so she came with us:

 The Snowy Egret was right were we'd left it, but the angry Canada Goose had left in a huff:

And on we walked, passing by Asters, Goldenrod and Roughleaf Dogwood on our way:

I try to stop the dogs from drinking out of puddles, but sometimes they do so anyway:

More New England Asters:

And tired, muddy dogs:

 Evening Primrose in bloom:

A stop to smell something interesting:

And then onward through the autumn color:

With the end of the trail getting close, the dogs picked up their speed:

They'd had a grand time but were now anxious to get back to the car and rest:

I took one last photo of the pond, a fitting example of the autumnal beauty all around us:

Wetlands And Wildflowers - Part 2

The dogs and I were walking the Rutland Nature Trail eastward, through abundant wetlands (see also Part 1, posted yesterday). The trail was lined with New England Asters in bloom:

And the dogs were ecstatic and muddy. The black cinders which once held up the railroad ties covered the dogs and got into my shoes and leg braces:

 At the other side of a pond were a Snowy Egret and Canada Goose. The Egret ignored me but the Goose honked angrily, upset that I'd invaded its territory:

Most of the red which you see on the sides of the trail was from Roughleaf Dogwood bushes:

And here is a closeup of Roughleaf Dogwood and its berries:

Seamus gave me his biggest smile:

 I was happy to see one Fringed Gentian, but I began to see more of them, then hundreds of them. They were great beauties:

And the dogs got increasingly covered with black, gritty mud:

Little Jack ran to and fro, always with a great smile:

 More Fringed Gentians:

My shoes and leg braces had become so gritty that walking was painful and I saw nowhere to sit and clean them. So we turned around and began heading back towards our parked car:

 I thought I recognized this sapling with the red leaves, so I looked it up when I got home. I decided it was a Black Tupelo, another species I've seen in pictures but never before in real life:

The dogs had finally tired themselves out and walked with me nicely. I didn't have to keep calling them back:

We passed by some channels along the trail:

The walk back was peaceful and calm:

Milkweed pods were getting ripe but not yet ready to burst and scatter their seeds. I'll post Part 3 tomorrow:

Flowers, Horses And Birds

The pasture is lush now, growing faster than the herd can eat it down. With my worry about the horses and founder - and the cows and obesity, I am not doing any rotational grazing. Furthermore, the horses spend each night in the barn, where they can get respite from their muzzles without access to any more green grass than they've already had:

All in all, it's a peaceful, happy herd:

 One of the two Canadian roses I planted, the Morden Blush, produced its first flower. The description called it an "ivory pink," which I'd consider accurate. This flower, however, was tiny. They should be 2-3" when the plant gets bigger:

 These pale yellow Iris began to fill up my rock garden and I was sure I hadn't purchased any of that color. Then I remembered that I'd planted old roots from the ground where the generator shed now stands. Well, they certainly put on a show. Oddly, I had purple Iris on the south side of the house and yellow on the north side:

In the wildflower department - lawns, fields and road edges began to fill up with extravagant blooms such as these Butter-And-Eggs. It won't surprise you to learn that it's related to the Snapdragon:

Roughleaf Dogwood bushes, 6-12 feet tall, burst into bloom all along the roads and edges of forests and fields:

 Ragged Robin bloomed everywhere, especially in pastures, hay fields and road edges. It's really more purple than this, but I couldn't get any photo to show it:

 And of course Buttercups bloomed everywhere. The livestock won't eat them, so they flourish. When we were kids, we used to hold a Buttercup flower beneath our chin. If it reflected yellow, it meant you liked butter. If not, you didn't. That this yearly childhood game had no connection to reality meant nothing. It was a tradition:

 Yellow Rocket or Winter Cress, another common flower of roadsides and fields:

I had a problem with my pigeon and chicken feeders being emptied each day, much of it scattered on the floor around the feeder. It was a mystery which needed solving:

Then one day I stood on my porch and watched while English Sparrows flew through the open mesh of the baby gate in the pigeons' window and the bars in the chickens' door. How was I going to solve that problem?

I got 1/2" hardware cloth and covered both openings so that the sparrows could no longer come and go at will. I'm not yet sure it worked because I just did it and it's possible, in an old barn, there are other ways for them to get in. But I'm sure I at least slowed them down: