sparrow grass
I love happening up a patch of feral asparagus in the fall with its golden ferny needle-like leaves (cladodes) and brilliant orange berries. Did you know that asparagus is sometimes called “sparrow grass” in England? The English word asparagus originally derives from Medieval Latin sparagus. I like eating asparagus; I don’t love it. But I do love seeing it along my trails in October.
Asparagus (Asparagus officinalis)
late bloomers
Do you feel like you are being stared at when you look at this image? I do.
I had no idea dahlias were so hardy––continuing to bloom into late October. These surely must mark be the end of our season. Here a few interesting facts about dahlias:
Dahlias are native to Mexico and Central America. Dahlia relatives include the sunflower, daisy, chrysanthemum, and zinnia. There are 49 species of dahlia, with flowers in almost every hue (except blue), with hybrids commonly grown as garden plants. Dahlias were known only to the Aztecs and other southern North American peoples until the Spanish conquest, after which the plants were brought to Europe.
last dahlias of the Twin Cities season
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TWO
Twins.
Salt and pepper.
Husband and wife.
Peanut butter and jelly.
Animals walking into Noah’s ark.
Roads that diverged into a yellow wood.Inevitably we leave one another,
Or stand in front of,
Depend upon,
Hide behind,
Augment,
Or join.We are never
fully equal,
At least not
at the same time.But who can discern
Which is the better?
Or more beautiful?
Or more resilient?Or
Just how much
We need each other?reply -
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
I look at the world through my own eyes,
But behind every thought and action
I feel the pulse of your heartbeat.reply -
Mary Jo Hoffman and Carla Park – a dynamic duo. The beauty of image and word in tandem! It sounds so simple, however, is anything but.
reply
even the lilacs go in on the action
Even the lilacs joined the party this fall. It was one of the prettiest leaf displays I can ever remember.
And now it’s raining. Badly needed, but sadly putting and end to the leafy festivities. What a show it was!
lilac leaves in autumn (Syringa vulgaris)
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In my journal, I wrote a poem to accompany this photo as I sip my coffee:
Top leaf tips into darkness,
Branch hanging in space,
Community of leaves, at different rates
Saying good-bye.
Joan, Raymond’s wife
Died today.
One less leaf.
The others waiting.
Living. Not living.
Life.reply -
Your art is so beautiful. Incredible.
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still hanging on
The roadsides are still sporting late season sunflowers; they are a little banged up but they are still here. We have not had a frost yet. And a quick peak at the weather forecast says there is no threat of frost for the next two weeks. If that holds, that would put us a full month later than normal for first frost. Sunflowers blooming on Thanksgiving in the North? Hmm.
Jerusalem artichoke sunflowers in very late October (Helianthus tuberosus)
Bines make beer. Vines make wine.
Our son Joseph planted hops this summer. The underground hop root system is perennial, but the annual bines are are not. These are not Joe’s bines. He got a small harvest this first year: enough to make 1 beer–which he did. I am not joking.
These bines I found covering a STOP sign in Minneapolis this morning. The hops are too old to make beer with (according to son Joseph), so they are currently in my dehydrator as an experiment. By the way, you can thank Joseph Hoffman for the title factoid: “BINES MAKE BEER. VINES MAKE WINE.” Hopes are a bine, of course.
hops bine seed cone strobiles ( Humulus lupulus)
