wildflower walk around the hayfield

I'm so grateful today as I write this.
On Monday I fell against the kitchen counter, my foot asleep, and slammed my arm and wrist, saving myself from a complete fall.  I twisted my ankle, barely saving it from a fracture. Ouch!

I got my foot up, slatherered in Arnica cream, and then remembered to put on a bandage with castor oil, both old-time healers. Muji is more concerned about being cuddled than my foot, believe me.

By the next day I was so much better that I could wear shoes, and suddenly found myself out in the hayfield on a breezy, overcast afternoon. I honestly don't know what propelled me except for the delight in being able to walk at all. Here's the back side of Forget-Me-Not Cabin as I depart.

I slowly walked the perimeter where bits of mown hay still lay

happy to see the wildflowers like this daisy

and these cinque foile

These are a form of wild aster called Fleabane

Fleabane up close

a wild rose blossom

The sweet smelling flower of an unknown tree

Now I've come around the back edge of the field, its eastern corner,

 where you can see Forget-Me-Not Cabin in the distance

There is a surprise stand of milkweed here, main food source of the Monarch Butterfly (that we never see out here) and how it smells, so sweet that I'm constantly amazed that it has never been bottled

Really, it is as wonderful as any rose!

These little babies, I've learned, are very common in this part of the world.

They are called Longleaf Starwort.

Another variety of wild rose

a heavenly blossom

a tender beauty

Here is a berry I have not identified

It has the leaf of a cherry, but the fruit doesn't grow like cherries

It is just beginning to ripen 

 

a happy snail

I turn around to capture home

a pretty pink/violet flower

There is a sudden profusion of them

It has the appearance of a thistle but I don't detect thorns

a little bumblebee enjoys them

Keys! I've only seen them on maples and this is not a maple

This sweetly perfumed, pretty fluffy flower grows on a tree
that seems somehow familiar to me, as if we used to see it on our old property

Like a bit of natural fireworks. its name is unknown to me 

nature girl

I pluck one of them and slip it into the hole of my zipper. 

This little venture around the hayfield has made me so happy.

The scarlet underside of a yellow leaf

A Thistle for real.

A grove of Sumac that makes me think of childhood visits to my grandmother's cottage.

With this I turn to make my way back across the field. There is an ominous feeling about the air.

A Queen Anne's Lace unfurling, a typical field flower

The globe seed head of a a large weed

I decide to head back on a diagonal toward home, heading north to Forget-Me-Not Cabin

Behind me, the fan of trees that I admire from home

I hold up a mitfull of hay as a token to my walk made easy by its cutting

The house looms closer

Home beneath the clouds

 

Muji awaits my return

a little romp around the garden. Behold the beautiful onion flower

and the hollyhocks on one side of the composter

almost black

heart of a hollyhock

an asymmetrical echinacea on the other side of the composter

and the rain comes down of a sudden.

Have a lovely weekend, grateful for all our working parts,

 our senses, our innate connection to the sublime

catching the last light

It's evening now, midweek. The day started with a gloomy fog, and when the fog left, it didn't take the gloomy with it. So gloomy it stayed all day.

But yesterday...

As usual we waited late in the day for our country drive. Wally had the day off.

And as usual, he stopped for me to commune with cows.

 

These gentle beasts were concerned for a mate of theirs who mooed from a barn across the road.

They were only mildly curious about me.

 

Their concern was palpable, and occasionally one would moo back.

 

Eventually this girl with the curled down horns came to join us.

 

She had her eye on some bit of stuff on the ground.

 

But this shy one who hid behind another wanted its mate to know they were there and cared.

 

As the dark began to fall, Wally headed back to town for us to walk around

the Bird Sanctuary pond. I spied this lovely milkweed that monarch butterflies love so well when they bloom in the summer.

 

The light was getting quite low and a damp cold was moving in.

 

Wally posed for me at the entrance bridge.

I brightened the photos but lost some saturation here. It was a glorious rosy pink sky.

We could see the community that lays along the shore of this pond, fed by a tributary of the Cornwallis River

The ducks floated safely in the middle

 

sending a tranquil ripple through the pink water

 

so sweet

We began our march around the pond, here at the northwest corner

 

when I had to stop again in the fading light

to capture these rose hips against the pond

as festive as holly

You can just see the bridge from whence we came at the top of the picture.

By now my camera is really struggling to catch the exposure of the fading light.

We were home again by 5:20pm, amazed that it was still quite early,

 but glad to leave the ducks in their cold, darkening pond. Brrr.

 

Grateful for creature comforts even if the days are already so short, or perhaps because they are.