Wetlands And Wildflowers - Part 1

The Rutland Nature Trail is only five miles from home, so I go there often. I recently took the dogs on the eastbound portion, a former railroad bed, which led us through wetlands:

The dogs were as excited as ever, maybe more so:

 Most of the Goldenrod by my house was finished blooming, but there was a lot of it along this trail:

And New England Asters, as you see on the left here, were also abundant:

Small White Asters (that's the official common name, not just a description) were also abundant, though less strikingly beautiful:

And the dogs ran up ahead, then back when I yelled at them:

I had recently decided that what I had by my house were New York Asters, not New England Asters. I thought they were variants of the same species but learned that they are different species altogether. Then I decided I had New York Asters and changed all the descriptions in my plant photo files. Sadly, I didn't check my field guide carefully first. When I finally did, I discovered that those by my house were New England Asters. These along the trail - well, I'm not sure and the photos don't reveal enough detail:

But the dogs don't care about such things. They just enjoy getting outdoors and running:

I've never seen a Fringed Gentian except in pictures, but I found one along the trail and it was as beautiful as the pictures had made them seem. Why is no one producing a cultivated variety for flower gardens? I checked online and found several companies selling seeds for these beauties:

 Virginia Creeper was turning bright red:

As we came to the wetlands, Jack went in for a long drink of cool water:

And I looked out over the brush to the opposite shore:

But thick brush mostly prevented us from going too close to the water, so we kept moving eastward along the trail. Autumn colors were already in evidence:

Happy dogs, running free:

I had to look past Small White Asters and Joe-Pye-Weed to see the next pond:

Jack led the way as we continued our eastbound journey. I'll post Part 2 tomorrow:

Pigeons, Hay Bales, Sunrises, Chickens And Fruit

The fantail pigeons only produced two babies this summer, and both of them died. But then this this lovely bird hatched one squab and fed it carefully:

 It fell to the floor on its second day, but since the parents were feeding and tending to it, I left it alone:

 It began to grow rapidly, sprouting feathers. I am hopeful that this little one will grow up and join the flock. There has been a second baby born since then and it too is doing well:

 A neighbor spent more than a week cutting, tedding (turning it over to dry in the sun) and baling the hay in my north field. I'd already filled the first floor with hay from another field, so my portion from this field went up into the hay loft. Electric bale elevators are marvelous inventions:

 And early in the morning, the parked haying equipment looked stunning in the rosy glow of sunrise:

 Wild blackberries ripened and I didn't even have to go looking for them. I stopped my riding mower and ate these right next to the lawn without even getting off the mower:

 I don't often see the fantail pigeons, the "baby" chicks and the adult hens all together, but some of each were all hanging out by the barn mini-door on this day:

 The eight remaining hens now live full time with the youngsters, though they diverge into two separate flocks the moment they get outdoors:

 I see a lot of glorious sunrises, but this one was the best so far. It was even more colorful that the photo and seemed almost to pulse above the foggy northeast field:

When I rang the bell to call in the cows that same morning, this was the morning sky over the southeastern field, which also was covered with fog. The cows and horses, by the way, refused to come in that morning and I had to wait until late afternoon to give them grain:

 I was taken aback when I saw these berries in my giant Lilac bush. They were on Virginia Creeper vines and perhaps the first time I've seen Virginia Creeper berries - or, more likely, the first time I truly took note of them:

 Some varmint, probably a rabbit, had been gnawing my windfall apples. I finally figured out who was eating them. It was my own hens, strolling beneath the apple trees, with a peck peck here and a peck peck there. I can still feed most of the apples to the cows, but some are so thoroughly demolished that I can't even do that. These were three good, still usable apples: