Those last few bits of colour

On the weekend, Lee and I drove through a snowstorm to southern Alberta, and the greyness of the trip reminded me of winter's lack of colour. So today I'm appreciating the last few bits of colour as autumn drains away into winter -- it won't be long and these few holdouts will be on the ground too.

I guess for the next few months, I'll settle for the colour of the sky on clear days, Shadow-dog's cozy sweater colours... and the dream of spring tulips. After a busy garden season full of colours, I honestly don't mind too much.

Chilly walks

We've come to that time of year when the leaves are pretty much gone, the wind is cold, and Shadow has had his annual pro haircut to get him through the winter. He'd much rather stay in Julia's bed than go for a morning walk, but I know better than to let him sleep all day and drive us crazy with puppy energy at night. Here are a few pics from our last few walks...

Hardly a leaf left

just a few on the columnar aspens...

Is it my imagination, or does it look cold?

A wider view

Nosing around on the frosty ground...

An almost empty canopy on my favourite street

I love how the tamaracks turn yellow from the inside out...

Ducks enjoying the old beaver dam...

the river is low... it was a dry summer...

After checking out the ducks, Shadow is happy to head home...

to his favourite sunbeam!

Simple Suggestion #180... Press some autumn leaves

When's the last time you collected autumn leaves and pressed them in the pages of a thick book?

My youngest daughter has been away in la belle province for the past two weeks for a busy and wonderful French immersion experience in the lovely city of Jonquiere. While there, she and her roommate raked leaves for their host mom every day, and during her last phone call to me, she said, "Mom, I'm bringing you 113 -- no, wait -- 135 pressed leaves as your present!"

There's nothing like the colours of autumn in my books. I'm not sure what I'll do with 135 of them, but aren't my leaves pretty? Maybe I'll make a collage and hang it on the art wall in our dining area. No one designs leaves better than God...

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

A Sunday morning walk

Days as pretty (and warm) as today won't be with us much longer now that autumn is on our doorstep. So we took a lovely walk in the river valley, a perfect Sunday pastime, if you ask me. Happy Fall!

Simple Suggestion #138... Look out for ladybugs

I was torn between two possible simple suggestions for today, but looking out for ladybugs won out over simply appreciating autumn. Chances are, you're appreciating autumn anyway, but looking out for ladybugs isn't something we human beings give much consideration.

I've been thinking about coccinellidae (who comes up with these fancy names?) since Monday, the day I planted tulips in my front yard. As I dug in the dirt, I ran into a lot of our little red friends with the black spots, and was amazed by their agility and acrobatics. One ladybird beetle (the proper name, as most of them aren't true, sap-sucking bugs) crawled up a thin dry thread of grass right to the end, and I held my breath as it dangled upside down for a moment before somehow turning back along the bottom side to safety.

The reason I've chosen this suggestion is that ladybugs (I'll stick with the familar name) are great predators who, unfortunately, often get picked up with our autumn leaves and trapped in garbage bags which go to the landfill (unless you compost -- I give free composting lessons; leave me a comment if you're interested). So, my simple suggestion: when you bag your autumn leaves this year, leave the bag sit open in your back yard for a day so that ladybugs can climb to the top and escape to eat your aphids for another year. I'm not sure how many ladybugs you'll save by doing this, but even one is worth it. A single lady bug larva can eat up to 5,000 aphids, an ability that is definitely appreciated by my perennials and me.

Of course, not all ladybugs are created equal. Last year, while picking pears, I ran into a nasty variety in our pear tree that actually bit. There are a few that can be agricultural pests, but as I don't possess the knowledge to determine who is who, I'm erring on the side of caution, and freeing the ones I can.

After all, in this world, it's up to big folks to look after little ones -- ladybugs included.

Oh, and don't forget to appreciate autumn in its glory!

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Try here.

Farewell, Summer

On Sunday, I woke up to crunchy white grass in our yard. It wasn't a happy moment, but I soon realized that the damage to my plants was next to nil. Jack Frost fired his warning shot, so today I'm saying goodbye to the beauty spots in my yard while I have the time. Not that there are many left -- by the end of August, only the rare perennial is still blooming, and the annuals look sad and tired. Even so, I walked around and caught images of a few flowers and leaves before Jack gets more serious. Now I'll be able to look back at this moodling in the middle of winter and remember a lovely, almost-autumn day spent admiring the last of summer's beauty.

P.S. I think I finally figured out how to get rid of the word verification silliness that happens to people who want to leave a comment, but of course, I can't tell if I did it right. Feel free to leave a comment and let me know if you're still required to decipher silly letters just to send me a note.

Thankful

Yesterday morning, my husband and I took a brisk walk around Henderson Lake in Lethbridge. We had to lean into the wind on the south side of the lake, but on the north side we were sheltered by the trees and the lessened wind was at our back. Canada geese and seagulls entertained us and themselves in or near the water, the sun shone, beauty overwhelmed me and I was full of thanks.

It's been a cooler-than-usual autumn in the West, but there we were, in our shirtsleeves on Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, enjoying the crunch of leaves underfoot and their colours in the trees and vines around the lake, greeting the people we passed on the pathways, and just being happy.

After that wonderful start to the day, the words of the first hymn we sang at church brought tears to my eyes:

For the fruit of all creation, Thanks be to God.

For the gifts of every nation, Thanks be to God.

For the plowing, sowing, reaping,

Silent growth while we are sleeping,

Future needs in earth's safekeeping, Thanks be to God.

In the true reward of labour, God's will is done.

In the help we give our neighbour, God's will is done.

In our worldwide task of caring

For the hungry and despairing,

In the harvests we are sharing, God's will is done.

For the harvests of the Spirit, Thanks be to God.

For the good we all inherit, Thanks be to God.

For the wonders that astound us,

For the truths that still confound us,

Most of all that love has found us, Thanks be to God.

(Catholic Book of Worship #532, For the Fruit of All Creation. Text by Fred Pratt Green (1970) -- traditional Welsh melody "All Through the Night")

On days like yesterday, I know deep down, without a doubt, that a Love larger than we can imagine has found us. Thanks be to God!