Rosh Hashana Snap Shot

While I'm not Jewish, today is a blessing for me in that I have it off of work as a Holiday. To my dear Jewish friends, "G'mar Hatima Tova"! And know that you are sealed in the book of my heart, too.

Poor Romeo's been such a trooper with me in my present malaise. He can't possibly know that he's the vector of my distress--though I have taken to washing his paws! So we took a nice long walk today. The jingle of his harness makes him swoon. And in spite of his enthusiasm it would probably be easier to train a seal to leap through a hoop than get him to hold still while I slip the harness over his neck!

On the way down we ran into a fawn on the edge of the woods in the lot on the other side of my neighbor's house. It was covered in spots and seemed rather small to me for this late in the summer. There was no sign on a doe anywhere. Romeo finds these creatures uninteresting, but is patient while I stand a speak gently to it. The fawn looks up, flicks its tail, and returns to eating. Greets made, we continue on down the hill.

In the park I am amazed by the moisture in the ground. By this time of the year the creek is often a dribble, and the ground is parched and hard as slate. This year the soil remains dark and clearly moist--and it hasn't rained for about a week, which makes this even more unusual. It's owing to the constant rain we received throughout the end of July and especially into the latter weeks of August and early September. Another benefit is how lush and verdant the woods are. Trees that have normally started losing their foliage for want of water are still full. Notably the sycamores, which are always, a harbinger of early autumn stress.

Asiatic Daylily

Knotweed

The flowers are also in full glory like I've never remembered before. The Asiatic Daylilies and Knotweed are snaking there way up through the tall grass in a veritable battle for pathway supremacy. But the jewel of the trail is my favorite autumn wildflower, the Trefoil Tickseed. And all together the three make a lovely boarder to the path.

Trefoil Tickseed

On the way back we pass a neighbor working in the flowerbeds that frame the walk to her front door. She remembers my desire to start a patch of Cleomes in my own gardens and has shred the seeds of hers with me in the past. "Did they ever take?" she asks.

"No," I report.

"Would you like some more seeds?" she asks.

"If I thought they'd grow, I would. But I don't think I have the right conditions," I say.

"You might need a sunnier spot," she offers.

"That's true," I say, "So I think I'll just have to settle for enjoying yours."

She smiles and we leave it at that.

Back home I drop Romeo off and drive over to a nearby grocery for some odds and ends for super. When I drive back onto my street, I notice my neighbor standing in his front door, and I wave. 

Once I get out of my truck, I see what has captured his attention. The fawn is now grazing in our neighbor's yard across from us. With relief I see her mother is with her, but to my surprise, she is scarcely larger that her offspring--and this in a year of such abundance.