A drive through the country

Saturday, we had a chance to drive through the country.  The leaf color was peaking in the area we drove through, and I thoroughly enjoyed the view.
Here is a red maple darling son captured at my request.  It was one of many, but this one was convenient to stop for.

 

We stopped in at the church I grew up in for their fall barbecue fundraiser.  You know you're in the country when your choices are chicken, pork, or deer.  Some of the oaks by the church were showing some yellow in the leaves, so I had to get a picture of that.  This is the church where my husband and I were married (a long time ago).

 

It was a nice day.

 

Red-tailed hawk

Yesterday morning, I could see a hawk in the scraggly pine beyond my neighbor's house where the vultures often perch.  From my window, even zoomed in as far as my camera could go, I could only get this.

 

Then I put my camera up to the eyepiece of my binoculars.  That was an interesting experiment.  It's not a crisp shot, but it brings the bird close enough for identification.

 

I did see a crow swoop down toward the hawk.  Later I noticed the hawk was gone and there were a few crows perched in the tree.  By that time the sun was warming things up, and I guess the hawk was soaring on a thermal and looking for prey.

 

Last of the summer roses

I had a chance to stop by my mother's house yesterday afternoon.  I noticed a bloom on her pink rose bush.  I don't know what kind of rose it is, but I don't know of another that has as many petals.  It is one my aunt gave her many years ago.
I also saw a bloom on the red rose.  I made a mental note to cut the two blooms since a killing frost was forecast.  Just as I was leaving, I saw a white bloom on the musk rose (the one I call Grandpa's rose).  I dashed over and cut it off as well.
Meanwhile back at my house, I'm enjoying the last two blooms on the yellow Anthony Meilland rose that I bought for my husband quite a few years ago.
Farewell, roses, till next spring.

Beans, collards, butterfly, Texas mallow

We've had a couple of light frosts, but my butter beans were protected by the limbs on the apple tree.  I thought it was pretty neat to pick butter beans on November 5.  I shelled out a generous 3/4 cup from this little dab right here that darling husband will enjoy for lunch tomorrow.
I also picked a few leaves off the collard plants.  I like to pick a few leaves at the time and eat them while they are young and tender.

 

Meanwhile, the butterflies are enjoying the season's last blooms. I saw a monarch the other day.  As soon as I fetched my camera, it decided to fly higher and higher up into a pine tree.  I was surprised to see it go that high. I took my camera back inside.  When I came back out, I looked up into the pine to see if I could see it.  Nope. Then I looked and saw it was right under my nose.  We played a little cat and mouse. I gave up that day, but I did manage to get a shot the next day of the monarch in the same vicinity.  Not a very good shot--this butterfly was not one to pose for me.

 

The Texas mallow has bloomed very well this year.  The camera picked up the sun shining through the blossom, making it look like it has yellow, but it really doesn't.  For some reason this camera just can't handle the scarlet color of these blooms. These blooms are great for the hummingbirds.

 

We'll probably get another frost tonight.  The beans and the mallow won't like it, but the collards will only be improved by it.

 

 

Random October pictures

October is surely one of the prettiest months.  Here are some random pictures.

More shiitakes

When we got the rain from Hurricane Hermine, I got a flush of mushrooms on my log.  Now it is fruiting again thanks to the rain from Hurricane Matthew.
What kind of dish should I make?

The pansy bed

Nearly every year I plant some pansies in the fall.  I always think of the poem my grandmother wrote in memory of my aunt who was killed in a car wreck.  Shortly before her death, my aunt had said, "We could have gone for pansies today."  The pansy bed was never to be, and my grandmother's poem was an appeal to Jesus to let my aunt tend the pansies in heaven.
Many years have passed, and I am now almost as old as my aunt was when she passed away.  I reflect on life and its twists and turns.  I'll plant pansies as long as I can.
Here is the little patch of Panolas I planted last Thursday.  It was nice to have my own compost for mulching.  I hope they can hang in there this week for some record high temperatures for October in central NC.