a quiet overcast september afternoon

Wally is home for a week and 2 days, attending to the house, painting, plumbing, and gardening on his agenda. I've got paperwork to do when I'm not on domestic duty or drawing in my sketchbook.

 The cooler autumn weather has slowed the growth of things around here and our 10 cent red jewel cabbage that made it into an available pot has certainly grown larger than the seedlings behind it, but won't grow much more I suspect.

I would have shown you this picture first but I didn't want to shock you so soon with such a good close up of a hornet that sat on the uppermost leaves of the climbing hydrangea that still sits in its pot on the deck, propped near the door to prevent it from constantly falling over in the wind.

Hornets are notoriously aggressive, but I sensed this fellow was somewhat sleepy

from a rather cool night before.

so I came in for his close up

and closer still.

As I stepped off the back deck, the vegetable garden is looking somewhat spent as most everything is ripening. The hydrangeas are looking tired too, bowed from the rain a few days before.

Into the yard, I noticed lots of wild asters growing around the perimeter,

this one by Forget-Me-Not Cabin's old beat up garage doors that I painted in the spring, 

The roses that Wally put into a new garden at one end of the cabin are budding profusely.

There are fading blooms on the other side of the same plant.

Lovely heirloom tomatoes are ripening.

and I'm overdue to pick some more green beans.

On his way to the garage, Wally catches sight of me.

"Hi honey."

I had to underexpose this daisy to pick up the detail in the petals

Beyond the rose garden is the rhubarb, then some wild asters, and the shipping pallet that Wally leaned in place to discourage the deer. Apparently they figured out a way in as the netting was pulled on our little peach tree, bending it over again, the remaining peaches gone

. At least we got some this year.  Next year, a real fence!

There were more wild asters growing on the other side of the cabin

by the old door crying for some paint.

Turning, I look East by Southeast at the hayfield whose weedy clumps of goldenrod, milkweed, etc.

are growing faster than the grass.

The wild roses in our border have turned to rose hips.

I make my way over to the garage garden where, that huge plant with the funky yellow flowers, Ligularia Dentata, is still putting on a show. Wally wanted me to check out where he placed the silver pitcher that I didn't need but didn't want to give away.

We both got a kick out of seeing it in amongst the Sweet William.

Over by the composter that Wally made out of shipping pallets,

the clematis is still blooming wildly.

Their seed heads make fabulous starbursts,

an added bonus.

Beside them the "black" hollyhocks are nearing the end

as they grow from the bottom of their stalks upward.

A gorgeous green and gold fly perched sleepily on one,

even as the wind bounced the bloom up and down and sideways.

Such an exquisite creature with its orange eyes.

Just to the side of the composter, more wild asters.

Sweet peas are blooming on the other side of the composter.

Going back up the steps, I look into the composter which looks more like a flower box with its Echinacea, clematis and the wild asters poking up through the deck side

The Echinacea are faded, woven through with sweet pea vines.

looking down on this natural bouquet of wild asters.

You may remember that I bought an extra cheap box of Crayola coloured pencils that have turned out to be of mixed quality, but fun nonetheless.

This piece done in Crayola coloured pencils as well,

as well as this one.

I'm feeling a little impatient to finish this book that I am drawing these images in so that I can justify turning to better quality paper. I've got a history of not completing my sketchbooks.  Better quality paper will actually enhance the appearance of these children's quality pencils, not to mention other media. Paper matters more than the materials sometimes, like the quality of a piano one plays on.  Still, there is much to learn each time I set out to draw something. The beaver's face was a challenge with its unusual shape, certainly not bunny or squirrel like, but as you can see I gave up finishing this piece, a sign that something better is to come.

Thanks for visiting today. I hope your September is kind to you. It is something to be grateful for, a little bit of kindness.

blessings

rainy drive and an orange visitor

There's a reason why I should post more often. One never knows what is going to come up.

On Saturday we made another venture down the road for a series of errands.

We kept to the slow road at first, through rural towns. This snake-like corrugated steel Quonset building seems no longer in use, returning to the land as it rusts and becomes overgrown.

Some houses are so refurbished, they seem like new.

This seems to have two new additions, each of its 3 parts has a door.

This concoction might have been thought out a little more. I think it's a beauty parlour of all things.

After out first stop, we thought we'd go through Berwick to catch the highway.

It was a thriving apple community in its day, and still very rural in its vibe.

Lovely little clapboard houses with generous porches

with some grander buildings

like this one turned into a restaurant

The highway proved to be very dicey

as the wind and rain 

had become too much for safe driving.

Wally slowed down

slow enough to capture these images through the blowing rain

Holstein cows on a farm

We were hydroplaning despite slowing down and knew we had to get off the road.

It didn't seem sloped enough to drain the fast and heavy amount of water.

Coming into Kingston, the rain seemed to abate somewhat.

Here's that sweet home I show you every time.

There seemed to be more houses than ever with For Sale signs on them.

This one with its spectacular front porch has sold.

Another lovely scene though not all had this charm.

This one had a barn for a garage.

We made it to Middleton where the only true charity shop is for miles,

the Sally Ann (Salvation Army). 

It hardly seemed worth the effort what with taking our lives in our hands and the impolite welcome we received from one of the workers in the back room. Ah well, people get tired.

We drove back to Kingston before we got on the highway again, hoping it would be drier.

Here is common scene of an overgrown farmfield.

The north mountain has a headland here I'd never seen before but for the low clouds.

Nearing our neck of the woods, the land rises 

until it becomes the old mountains.

That's a raven in the sky.

Our road has some remnants of old farms on it. This strange view of a barn reveals its secret on the right. The drop reveals where the doors would open on that right end for whatever animals it was built for that grazed on the sloping fields.

Even closer to us, an old Victorian that was a pale sage green til recently.

I always enjoy this cottagey style house with the big shed dormer.

There's usually an old golden retriever outside who barks at us when we walk by

.

and home again, home again, jiggedy-jig. Well, a little more jiggedy than jig.

Wally and I get out of the car and explore where he will plant

a little blue spruce we bought 2 months ago.

The little wild roses that insinuate themselves everywhere (even the lawn) are growing beside the huge old ash. We don't know how long it will take for the small blue spruce to grow, but we're hedging our bets that it won't be a problem for a long while. I'd really like a Christmas tree to block my view of the road in winter.

 

So that was Saturday.

Yesterday...

Yesterday morning I heard a chip,chip, chipping out my screened window and was surprised to see a male cardinal edging nearer to the window almost as if he was trying to peer in.

Cardinals are very shy, hence those blurry shots I got of one earlier in the spring. Also their call is very loud, not this gentle chip, chipping sound.

Then suddenly I saw why the unusual behaviour. There was a cat below us, walking the hedgerow. It was a young orange cat, and when I called to it, it came toward me. That's when I knew it wasn't another of the local feral cats. I quickly got myself outside, scooped it up and put it in a crate. I called my neighbour who knows everybody and he said it appeared to be abandoned and that he'd been feeding it for the last month. The neighbour next to him have kids who play with it so that it had become quite friendly.

I called a cat rescue lady who established a foster mama for me within the hour. I was astounded.

I made the little guy comfortable in the back vestibule as he was very unhappy with Babu and Muji nosing around, growling and hissing at them. Locked in the vestibule, he began to cry,

 so I sat with him for a bit. 

Skittish with me at first

It was hard to get pictures of him for the rescue lady

but as I sat with him, he soon calmed down.

In fact he became so quiet through the afternoon that I feared he might have escaped-

but that was impossible. Still, I didn't want to check on him for fear of starting him up again,

When the foster mama showed up late in the afternoon, it was raining buckets.

When I led her to the vestibule, I told her I didn't know what to expect as he had been so quiet.

There was the little boy snoozing in the crate that he had been so eager to escape.

This long time kitty mama had just gone through a period where she had lost 4 senior cats in succession to the ailments of old age. She was taking time off work when she saw my pictures of him and determined immediately that he was the boy for her. Driving all the way from Dartmouth to Aylesford to get flea and worming medication, then to me and home again, I was amazed by the way the Universe works when you do the right thing.

This kind woman had him named before she left.  Sam, perhaps.

I can't believe it was resolved so quickly and kindly.

My coloured pencil picture that I  showed you in the last post needed some finishing touches  It seems somewhat anti-climactic after all those pictures of the cute baby, but here it is for what it's worth.

"The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention"

                                                                                        Oscar Wilde