Real, joined-up writing sort of words, aren't they? All it means is the changing of the colours of
the trees from green to reds, browns and yellows- something that we have all witnessed over the last few weeks.
It's all to do with the sugars in the leaves changing form and then dropping off. It's all technical now! The winds of the last week have taken the senescent materials and dumped them on the ground in drifts everywhere. The world's gone all brown now.
Murphy loves it though. A toddler would have the same enjoyment at the leaves taking flight again as he rustles through them all.
It's well into September and there have been some frosts, but still there are a few dragonflies about. They probably have antifreeze instead of blood.
I decided to go down and count the flowers that were still alive, this morning. First one was gorse of course, it must flower every month of the year, then the mahonia. It is a plant used for cover by game birds, lovely yellow flowers then grape-like fruit. There is a bit of Lavender still in flower too, its scent still noticeable. Lots of daiseys and dandelions as well, also the things that look like reeds are appearing to be a bit sick now- definitely on the way out. The ivy has got its flowers out at the moment and they do look well.
I didn't see anything else, but one advantage of the the leaf drop is not we can see the birds and the squirrels in the trees. The new visitors are frustrating for Murphy, as the usual performances we didn't see before are now clearly visible.
Result is is: the obedience filter has gone out of the window. I was reading a book last night and the author said that he had a "complaint" of women in his life. Now that is a phrase from the heart!
It's now four thirty and it's dark. There is a tawny owl shouting at the dogs somewhere close and I hope my liver and bacon is in the oven, a better place for it would be in me, although I bet Murphy would think of a better place!
I will leave you with this thought:
Dogs must be smarter than people. They wag their tails, not their tongues.
See you,
Buggy man.
