Time for a Wee Break

Leaves do miraculous things. ~Hal Borland, American writer, journalist, and naturalist

This is the Red Oak that my son Domer helped me plant last year:

Red Oak, September 2024

I did the best I could with its care — watering it, talking to it, and trying to keep the bugs off it.

One of my neighbors (a Master Gardener, no less) advised me to buy that green bag zipped around its trunk so I wouldn’t have to guess how much water to give it. She said a slow, steady drip would provide a proper foundation.

Still, the nasty Japanese Beetles chomped on it with glee. Notice the ragged limbs on its right side:

Red Oak, November 2024

Notice also how miniscule it looks, particularly in the number of leaves and that skinny trunk.

Red Oak is supposed to be a fast-grower, but I started to fear I’d never have shade.

What a difference a year makes:

Red Oak, November 2025

I hose-watered it this year — deeply and on a regular basis throughout the growing season. I sprayed it with something called Neem Oil and banished the bugs. And my oak grew taller and fuller, with a much bigger trunk and leaves that were almost as big as my hands!

And notice that delightful red-orange color!

I guess I did something right after all. Or perhaps, the tree is thriving in spite of me.

Anyway, Happy Fall, y’all! And Happy Thanksgiving feasting! I’m taking a bit of time off but will catch up with you in December!

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday

Around and around the house the leaves fall thick—but never fast, for they come circling down with a dead lightness that is sombre and slow. Let the gardener sweep and sweep the turf as he will, and press the leaves into full barrows, and wheel them off, still they lie ankle-deep. ~Charles Dickens, English novelist, journalist, and social critic, from Bleak House

Dazzling Autumn

Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life. ~Hal Borland, American writer, journalist, and naturalist

Do

You know

What a joy

It is to see

Autumn exploding

In brilliant shades of bronze,

Scarlet, lemon, and orange

When nobody thought the leaves would

Do anything but turn brown and drop

Before winter’s chill could make the trees bare?

 

 

Note: Poetry form is Etheree.