We are still enjoying a beautiful Indian summer here in west Michigan.  We’ve had a killing frost so that the last zucchini standing has finally fallen.  We’re enjoying above normal temperatures and dry conditions.  It’s a great time for the farmers to harvest their crops.

Neighbor chops corn for cattle feed

The corn field behind our barn has been harvested.  It doesn’t take long for these folks to bring in the crop.  That’s Meghan’s house in the background.  Have you visited her blog?

A quarter-mile north of here, another friend and neighbor was harvesting soy beans yesterday.  I saw him in the morning and again in the evening shortly after the sun had gone down.  He wants to get the job done before the rain comes later today.

Yesterday, I got my tractor back from the shop.  A bad hydraulic line had put me out of business.  It took eight days to get it back, and I was unhappy that all that beautiful weather was going to waste when I had tilling to do at church and here at home.

As soon as the tractor was unloaded, I took it to the barn and removed the mower deck.  Next, I mounted the front-end loader and the tiller.  Then I drove the mile and a quarter to church.  After a bit of planning, I moved some top soil to where it was needed and then began to till the newly formed bank at the edge of the rear parking lot.  Sylvia and Pastor Mark used their rakes to prepare the ground for grass seed.  Nearly half-way through the job, the tiller quit operating.  The problem is in the tractor.

So it will be another wait for the service department to fix my John Deere.  I’ll keep busy doing other outdoor tasks.  I have plenty to do.

Last night, as the moon rose it was very cloudy.  The sky looked like this:

One day past the full moon

I wanted to see if I could capture the “feel” of last night’s moon.  I used the “night sky” setting on the camera and then used Photoshop Elements to lighten the image a bit.  The result is fairly close to what my eye saw.

Later, the skies cleared.  It was probably a good night for my friend to harvest those soy beans.

Yesterday, Sylvia and I had lunch with our son, Bryant.  We do that most weeks, and it is one of the highlights of my week when we do.  When I shared what I intended to post today he suggested the title.  I liked it and have chosen to use it today.

A recent heavy frost left most of the garden dead and dying.  Only one zucchini plant escaped.  It alone remains in this year’s garden space.  Everything else has been harvested and removed.

Last zucchini standing

There are three babies on this plant, and so it will remain for a while longer.  Then the tractor and tiller will move through this area and churn it up.  It will be the end of this garden area.

Next year this will be lawn

Pines on the east and a box elder tree on the south keep this area in shade most of the day.  Also, it is in a low place where water run off crosses in heavy rain.

Those whitish looking spots are the remains of newspapers that were used as mulch.  Nobody here likes to pull weeds, so we use the papers.  As you can see it works very well.  The only place that weeds and grass grow is under the fence, which has been removed.

Another reason we are moving the garden is to get it close to the house and the water supply.  We have to drag hose a long way to water the garden.  That’s not fun.

It’s a long way to the house

The new location is just out of the frame to the right of the above picture.  It is much closer.

Much closer to the house and higher

This years garden is 520 square feet in size–about half again larger than it was the year before.  Next year, we’ll have 680 square feet for vegetables plus 204 square feet reserved for perennials.

Another view of the new garden area

I marked out the new location and treated the grass with an herbicide.  The wind was blowing so it carried a bit beyond the intended margins.  We’ll leave a three-foot-wide swath down either side of the length of the garden for perennials.  For us that means asparagus, rhubarb (my favorite) and, of course, some flowers.

This would be tilled now, but the tractor is in the repair shop.  It developed a hydraulic fluid leak.  When that is fixed, I’ll be able to get on with the next phase of tilling and adding some extra top soil and nutrients.  (Plenty of that available here in the country.)

While I wait for the return of the tractor, three zucchinis are growing.  That’s okay with me.

Our house has a large deck in front

The house we live in today has a large deck on the front.  Some have said how nice it is, which only illustrates their lack of understanding.  The mosquito air force renders areas such as this mostly unusable during most of the warm-weather months.  There is no shade to protect from a hot sun.  Those are just two reasons why our deck is not used very often.

In 1947, my parents moved into a house with a screened porch.  I remember sitting on that porch in the 50s.  Once in a while someone would walk by our house at the edge of town.  We’d always speak a greeting and almost always got one in return.  Sometimes, the passerby would engage us in conversation for a while.  It was great to sit there on the porch swing and enjoy watching the activities outside while listening to Mom hard at work inside the open door to the main house.

In the summer, we’d carry the large console radio out to the porch and listen to radio dramas in the evening to an accompaniment of crickets and katydids.  We’d play outside during the day, but in the evening after supper, or on a rainy day, we sought the shelter of the screened porch.

Screened porches and porch swings were common back then.  I don’t see them very often these days.  TV has drawn people inside where they hunker in the bunker.  Then there are those of us who are online.  I could take my lap-top computer to the deck and surf from there, but why?

 No, I don’t want to go back.  That doesn’t work.  Yet sometimes, I think of those days and remember how nice they were.  Life was simpler, but it was also harder.  Maybe I’ll go sit on the deck in the late afternoon.  It should be warm enough for that if the forecaster is correct.

This lovely rose started to bloom in June.

The rose was a gift to Sylvia from a friend.  Last week, the current crop of blossoms were beautiful.  This week I discovered that they had passed their prime.

A week ago this looked like the perfect rose.

I think it still looks pretty and it still looks like a rose.  It’s not one I’d present to my wife as a token of my affection.  Am I right?  And yet there is beauty in that rose.

It may be past its prime, but it is still pretty and it is still a rose.

This one too was there on the bush.  Perhaps this is a metaphor for our lives.  What do you think about that?  The rose still retains the beauty of a rose.

The blossoms on this red rose seem to fare better with time.

The mature blossom on the red rose.

You’ve probably noticed that there are folks who are like the rose.  I hope you are one of those.

The responses to yesterday’s post were both interesting and enlightening.  Turns out that duct tape comes not only in the traditional silver (looks gray to me), but it is also available in pink.  That’s gotta be for the gals who want to spiff up their wardrobe or keep things in place.  Turns out there is also a camouflage version for us guys.

One astute student of the human condition has said, and I paraphrase, “If it doesn’t move and should, use WD-40.  If it does move and shouldn’t, use duct tape.”  Hard to argue with that, wouldn’t you say?

Rebecca noted in a comment, “They make pink duct tape, nowadays. And pink electrical tape.”  That’s true.  Electrical tape comes in a variety of colors, I have electrical tape in each of the colors that comprise the resistor color code.  Makes it easy for me to mark and code various wires & such.

What special uses have you found for duct tape?  Or are you more like this?

She doesn’t look familiar, but I think her mother was one of my teachers in school.

School has started by now in most places.  My friend Roy sent me an e-mail last Friday with the subject line, “Are you getting the maximum usage out of your vehicle:”  The body of the message was a collection of images featuring overloaded vehicles.  I saw this one and thought of all the college students that recently moved onto campus.  (Roy’s granddaughter is one of them.)

Can’t you just hear the harried mom asking the way to the state university and where is her son’s dorm room?  (You know it is not a daughter.  A daughter would never pack her stuff using gray duct tape.  Or, if she did, it would be decorated with hand-drawn hearts, flowers or perhaps unicorns.)

What story does the photo bring to your mind?  I’ll recognize the writer of the best story–right here next week.

September 9, 1961

We had time for a two-day honeymoon at the family cottage before returning in time for fall classes to begin at Michigan State University.

2011

We’ve changed a bit over the last 50 years.  Well, I’ve changed a lot, but Sylvia looks more beautiful to me each day.

A couple of days ago, I was in a local business and I was sorting through my coin purse for the correct change.  The clerk reached in an took the right amount.  Then she was embarrassed.  “Oops!  I shouldn’t have done that,” she said.  I told her it was okay, I was married for [nearly] 50 years and understood.  She has been married for 37 years.  She went on to say how impossible it would be to replace a mate after that many years together and the history that you’ve amassed together.  She was right on target with that comment.

Our life has been two hearts.  Two sons.  Two states.  Two foreign countries.  Two careers.  All joined into one love.  One faith.  One life.  One hope.  One destiny.

So pardon me if I’m brief today.  I have other things on my mind.

Last evening, Sylvia and I were returning home from a church meeting.  As we drove down our secondary road, our house came into view on the east side.  To the west, the sun was preparing to set.  The light of that sun created a dramatic effect on our house.  I said to Sylvia, “It’s a pity that I can’t capture that image, but it will be gone by the time I can retrieve the camera and get in place.”

I knew this was true.  I had tried a couple of times before and always met with failure.  Last evening was different.  We entered the house, and the light still seemed to be good.  I took camera in hand and went out on the front (upper) lawn.  This is what the camera saw:

This image is not processed, except for being re-sized–as are all of today’s images.

I made sure that I was standing in the shade so my shadow wouldn’t be in the shot.  The scene was more vivid to the eye, but I chose not to manipulate the image.

A short while later, I looked out to see what the sky looked like.  It was going to be interesting, and this is what I saw:

How about those clouds that are lit from below?

Anticipation is building within me as the moments roll along.  The sun if fast disappearing below the horizon.  And then . . .  It makes a last and dramatic appearance.

Increasing color is building drama into the scene.

Can you see the silo just to the left of the sun?  That sun will set behind the silo at the equinox.  As you can see here (as well as on the calendar) that equinox is approaching.

A little more patience and perhaps my reward will come . . .  And it did.

Finally bright fire filled the sky and made the wait worthwhile.

I was so tempted to work on this with Photoshop Elements. Isn’t it better to see the raw images?  I hope you like them.

The pictures taken, I went in and ate a late supper, which Sylvia had prepared.  We had sweet corn, baked potatoes, pickled beets, fresh green beans from the garden and lots of other veggies.  Yum yum.

I saw an object the other day that left me in a pensive mood.  The sight struck home the truth of summer fleeing and autumn on its heels.  Can winter be that far away!  Why does my mind have to stray into thoughts like these?  This really is my favorite time of year.  A couple of weeks ago, a birthday marked another completed lap around our nearest star.  Just a few days until a wedding anniversary.  And yet my mind is captured by the vision of that thing hanging high in the mulberry tree.

Can you see it?

There it is in the upper left of the frame.  It’s the last mulberry of summer.  Way beyond my reach.  Over 15 feet above my head, I cannot reach it.  I will not savor it succulent and tart flavor and feel its juice in my mouth as my teeth crush its flesh.  Even the birds have stopped visiting the tree.  So there it hangs . . . while below I am hoping that it hangs in and hangs on.

Perhaps I should learn a lesson from this tenacious fellow.

In case you had trouble spotting our hero, here he is in closeup:

Please forgive the fuzziness if you would.  A little breeze and a whole lot of shaking going on.  The latter being the hands of the [so-called] photographer.