You know everyone’ll get along pretty well when you can’t even stop laughing long enough to pose for a pic. Susan had Lynne and I in hysterics…
and just wouldn’t stop her silliness. Maybe at some point tomorrow there’ll be something like serious birding. In the meantime… all that laughing you hear… that’ll be the flock.
😉
I haven’t shared very many pics from the garden this summer and seeing as the season’s come quickly to an end, I thought I might better do it now. My garden favorites, the goldenrod and joe-pye, did their thing and were promptly cut down weeks ago as part of the fall clean-up the DH insists on doing. His pride and joy, the tropicals, took their sweet time in blooming this year and are now flirting with frost.
Every day he debates bringing them into the basement for safety from the threat of frost or leaving them outside to continue the show they’ve waited so long to put on.
His dad had a passion and a green thumb for growing Angel’s Trumpet’s. We’ve not been able to grow these trees to half the size his dad could, but we don’t have a greenhouse to overwinter them in, either. He hauls them into the basement for the winter instead and practices a sort of benign neglect with a dose of water every so often hoping that they’ll go dormant and wake up the following spring.
If you know these flowers, you know how strong their scent can be on a hot summer night. We’ve not had that this year as they started blooming so late, but still they’re beautiful in their own exotic way. Each day the blossoms change shape and color, unfurling in the late afternoon light.
We try out a new variety, or color, or flower shape each year and are often surprised. This one, a double, revealed a flower within a flower. There’s still a few, new this year, that are just setting buds and will probably have to do their blooming in the dark basement if his procrastination and a frost don’t get them first.
God I love a marsh in October! I’ve been known to purposefully *get lost* and find myself there just when the low sun is lighting it with these beautiful late afternoon colors.
The DH was the latest victim of my subterfuge, but I didn’t plan things well enough to remember my big lens and have a chance at that bird-shaped blob there in the center. Yes, it’s a Tri-Colored Heron and yes, that would have been a pretty pic, but oh well. A nice find at any rate because they’re not so common here in NJ.
The signs of civilization marring the view there in the distance is the southern part of Long Beach Island, btw. Great Bay is said to be one of the least disturbed wetland habitats in the Northeastern US and is a great place to get lost and find birds.
Country-living in NJ, you ask? Bah! Not possible, right? Apparently some people here in the most densely-populated state manage such a thing. Granted, I had to drive to the middle of nowhere to find them, but…
Did you realize that there’s some market for antique tractor seats? Go figure!
The Country Living Fair at Batsto Village was an interesting mix of oddities… from yesterday’s bulldogs and alpacas (with adorable underbites) to little children carted around in a circus cage…
… to steam-fueled contraptions with the sweetest of whistles. Yes, I smiled and made that gesture you remember from your own childhood to make them sound the whistle…
😉
There were men chiseling arrowheads from bits of found stone…
and others rendering beautiful candlesticks from bits of Pine Barrens sugar sand…
… and broom-makers! Who makes brooms? Who uses brooms anymore?
… and this sweet, sleepy-eyed Barred Owl from Cedar Run.
A nice day. And I even managed to find what I hope might be a perfect gift for a flock member!
😉
🙂
Summer is like a shadow; turn and it’s gone.
The seeds of another summer spin into the air, twirling, catching in spider webs and wool sweaters, sailing high in the sky, vanishing like migrating birds.
The wind carries them; the air stills and they settle gently to the earth, waiting for winter to blanket them in snow. 
I think I see the moon reflected there in the water?
What all do you have planned?
Luka has other ideas… mainly getting me off his couch! Disclaimer: This post is mostly about my hair. Try back tomorrow for something less vain.
While Susan’s doing her part to keep the local car dealership in business – (Congrats Susan!) – I spent a small fortune today in support of my local hair salon. The business owner, who also happens to be the nice lady that cuts and highlights my hair, insists that if all her customers were like me she’d have gone out of business a long time ago. Apparently, the *luxury* that I allow myself once every six months or so does nothing to keep her afloat.
She does a nice job with my hair and after two hours and about five pounds of foil I walk out of there looking very natural. Like the lady who does my nails, she prides herself on that; that I should look natural after spending all that money. I wonder what the point is if I look the same either way? Maybe I should get my money’s worth and dye my hair blue or something so that people will actually notice?
There was a sort of grunt and a “Short!” from the DH so I guess that’s worth the $$.
😉
I don’t know what sort of magic she has in her fingertips or if instead it’s the expensive array of potions she smoothes over my curls, but I leave there with my hair looking something like Marlene Dietrich’s… all smooth and wavy in just the right places and shaped nicely. It never looks that way again, btw. Shouldn’t that be included in the price – shouldn’t my naturally glamorous look last for like a week or so, at least, before I revert to looking like I just rolled out of bed?
😉
I’m guessing that most of us are pretty low-maintenance type girls. The funny thing is that sometimes I feel like I spend a fair bit of money in creating that illusion. Does that make the first bit of sense? I have my hair highlighted in the off-season to keep the same brightness the sun gives me for free in the summer months; I have my nails done but insist that they’re kept super short and painted in quiet colors; I wear makeup that looks like I’m not wearing any. Hello? Why not save myself the trouble?
Tomorrow is Blog Action Day and this year’s topic is Poverty. Any wonder why I’m contemplating the cost of my own vanity?
Cranberries grow in the Pine Barrens regardless of whether they’re cultivated or not; those that grow along the borders of swamps are not as large as their cultivated cousins, but I’m sure they’re just as tasty. Cranberry farming is said to be among the most respectful of the environment; pesticide and fertilizer use is minimal and the harvest during the month of October is quite the agricultural spectacle, in my opinion.
During the summer months, a cranberry bog is a carpet of tangled vines. When the vines are in flower in early summer, pollination is assured by placing any number of perilous beehives among the bogs. There’s often nice numbers of dragonflies and butterflies, too, that feed on the wildflowers that grow along the dikes.
At some point in late summer, the bogs are flooded via the system of dams that interlaces the bogs. The water protects the tiny fruit and makes harvesting much less labor-intensive.
This man here is making some adjustment to the water level in the bog. The color of the berries just astounds me! Typical of fall, the vegetation along the dikes was covered in spider webs and there were millions of spiders everywhere… ballooning in the air, crawling over the farm equipment, climbing in my hair. Eeck! There’s not ever much in the way of birds here, save the Turkey Vultures and at least 30 Killdeer stalking the dikes.
This is one of the scary-looking machines used to harvest the cranberries; I think this may be some type of conveyor-belt thingy, actually. Specialized machines… things that look like tractors for water are driven through the bogs to beat the berries off the vines so that they float to the top. The berries are corralled to one corner of the bog and then collected and transported to the Ocean Spray processing plant that’s in a nearby town.
After harvesting, the bogs are drained so the vines can be pruned (or picked-over by hand for any that were missed by the beaters!) The bogs are flooded again in late December or early January to protect the vines from freezing and further irrigated, if necessary, to keep the water from freezing over. In spring the bogs are drained again and the honeybees brought back into service and the cycle starts anew.
If you’re interested in witnessing this spectacle, Piney Power has a schedule of harvest dates and directions to farms that are visitor-friendly. Two of my favorite places are Double Trouble State Park in Bayville and any of the farms along Rte. 530 near Whitesbog Village. There’s some great pics of the harvest at that link also. Enjoy!
