Saturday Morning Garden Blogging, Vol. 11.32: Autumn Light

Good morning, gardeners, and welcome to the Saturday Morning Garden Blog!

"Last night, the waiter put the celery on with the cheese, and I knew that summer was indeed dead. Other signs of autumn there may be - the reddening leaf, the chill in the early-morning air ... in a year of drought the leaves may change before their time ... [but] it is only with the first celery that summer is over."    ~  A. A. Milne,  A Word for Autumn

It's been several years since i had a vegetable garden to fuss over, and it's possible i'll never have one again.  I may change my mind if i can convince our Pacific Northwest skies to be less stingy with the summer rains; or if the plentiful deer honor the invisible property line as if it's a 12 ½ foot fence.  In my garden, the summer's end is more about apples (the trees were very generous this year), and the way the light seems to soften with the shifting angle of the sun.  Ah, that gorgeous early autumn light.  I just can't get enough of it ...

Could the light seem all the more precious because the days are getting shorter?  Possibly.

A full moon in the morning, briefly sharing the sky with the rising sun ...

By mid-day, once the fog burns off, the rear field becomes a carpet of dandelions ...

Closer to the house, a Dogwood tree ...

Persimmons first blush - pucker up!

Hippy roses ...

Not so hippy roses ...

Lavender, forever in bloom ...

This one has wings ...

On the north side of the house, a weed i never got around to pulling is rewarding my procrastination.  "See what happens when you just leave me alone?"

On the other hand, what this weed is saying can't be shared in mixed company ...

All in all, i like this time of year.  I like it when the upstairs windows have to be shut before bed or the house will be freezing in the morning.  I like the weight of the dutch oven in my hands, and the comforting aromas of a simmering stew.  I love the crunch of an apple straight off the tree, as well as the bubbling crisps they make.  And i love the muted colors of autumn, all glazed as if by fairy dust in the softening of the light.

What's going on in your gardens?  What does the end of summer mean to you?

Source: Saturday Morning Garden Blogging, Vol. 11.32: Autumn Light