Autumn is officially here, and I'm feeling just a little sad about it. Don't get me wrong. I love autumn with its crisp days and cool nights. I love the way the leaves turn golden-orange and deep crimson on the trees lining my block. And I love the pink and lavendar asters that dominate my garden now that even the black-eyed susans are calling it quits. But there's no doubt about it -- I'm going to miss my summer garden.
This year a flock of yellow finches nested in the wisteria bush that dominates two trellises on the north side of our yard. Each morning they'd greet my husband as he filled the bird feeder nestled in the fern bed next to our garage. In the evenings they'd visit the pond for convenient drinks of water.
We had redbirds, too, a momma and daddy cardinal who chose our pussy willow tree for their home. And we had our usual flock of mourning doves, perennial visitors that nest in the thick back garden every year. Three baby rabbits made my life miserable as they gobbled up the spring flowers, but even they were more welcome than this fellow.
This raccoon did his best to escape the trap, but eventually it was off to the forest for him. He'd tried breaking into our house via a screen window and now had to pay the price for his curiosity.
The roses and flocks, the lillies and astible, the hosta and ferns are all turning brown now, and all that's left blooming are the asters and marigolds. Soon it will be time to put out the pumpkins and Halloween lights. Summer is over for another year.
I'm going to miss my garden and all its inhabitants.
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