Wordless Hints of Things to Come

Aquilegia canadensis

Hydrangea macrophylla

Sedum kamtschaticum

Iris germanica

Helleborus x hybridus 'Sandy Shores'

Syringa meyeri

Shhhh! The Garden Is Sleeping...

Tomorrow's Big Picture

I've been around long enough to know that today is tomorrow's past. The moment after the autumn leaves flame, they're "past peak." When a flower blooms, it starts to fade. When a human being reaches the pinnacle of his or her career (or health or vibrancy), that person begins a certain decline. When we're born, we begin to die (during this life, anyway).

This is not intended to be a downer post. On the contrary, it's to remind me there is more promise in a tiny seed than in a plant in full bloom.

This autumn, I've been collecting seeds--studying them, playing with them, photographing them, appreciating them. What follows is a simple vignette of a few seeds and seedpods that have captured my curiosity.

Rudbeckia hirta

Agastache foeniculum

Phaseolus coccineus

Chasmanthium latifolium

Passiflora incarnata

Lablab purpureus

Mixed prairie grasses

Echinacea purpurea

Conoclinium coelestinum

Asclepias tuberosa

Solidago rugosa 'Fireworks'

All these plants are dormant. To some, they appear small ... insignificant ... boring. To the wise among us, they're stunningly beautiful ... full of promise ... worthy of great praise.

And lest we think of them as "little" things, we must remember that these tiny seeds, together ...



... are tomorrow's "big picture."

They are beautiful and powerful alone, but together in all their diversity and flaws, they can change the world.



Messy, yes ... but think of what they will become.

A Season of Goodbyes (and a Few Surprises)

If you live in a place that changes with the seasons, you know the tug of realizing--at some point each autumn--you've probably seen the last [fill-in-the-blank] of the year until next spring. Migratory species leave; perennials dry up and go dormant; the picture-perfect, carefree, comfortable days are numbered.

But if you're like me, you occasionally experience a surprise, or two, or three ... or more.

Like the time last October, when I decided to drive around town to capture a few photos and memories of the autumn colors before they faded. I figured I'd seen the last Monarch butterfly of the season, since I hadn't seen one for at least a week.

And then I saw one, as I drove up to a city park along Madison's Lake Mendota.



I clambered out of my car and carefully inched over to the beautiful stands of Asters (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae), to snap a joyful photo of the little beauty.

And then I noticed another one.



And a couple more.







And then a few more.



I looked across the parking lot and saw more.





Gosh, they were loving those Asters.





They weren't moving very fast, because it was rather chilly and the skies were cloudy, so it was easy to photograph them.











Apparently this grouping of Asters and other fall-blooming plants was placed at just the right spot for Monarchs flying off the lake--a way-station of nectar for butterflies on their journey south.





A few bumblebee friends joined them.



I was captivated by this unexpected, late-season gift of grace. I took it all in, snapped a few photos, and observed.

































Until it was time for me to leave,



And time to wish them safe travels,



Until their great-grandchildren returned the next year.



I'm linking this post to Donna's "Seasonal Celebrations" at Gardens Eye View, and Michelle's Nature Notes over at Rambling Woods. Please visit their beautiful blogs for more seasonal inspiration.

Happy autumn (and spring to those in the Southern Hemisphere)! And may you have many more butterflies and [fill-in-the-blanks] in your future!