I walked out to retrieve the mail and a couple of packages the afternoon before Thanksgiving and felt such an indescribable peace while standing ankle deep in Oak and Tulip Poplar leaves. I stood there listening to the sound of Fall rustling leaves and watching them scamper along the driveway in the breeze, banking against the tires of the family SUV (Hey! Go after the jet fuel and government waste before you send me hate mail. Just sayin).
And then it happened. Though it's 70 degrees out. The first Southern Snow occurred. So, Saturday afternoon, having spent an hour or so relocating a maple and getting my fig tree in the ground, I turned to the chore of "plowing" a path in the back yard, banking up the second "snow" since we're expecting rain again tonight. I thought it would be best to get out there and tackle the issue before it turned into a compacted mess. I accomplished
The week before we had a light dusting occur. Fortunately, I was relieved of that laborious chore and averted to more pleasant tasks by the arrival of the lawn guys. Their super duper trusty whirly compost mower made it disappear! When I do manage to beat them to it, I use it as mulch in the garden. Hey! I am recycling! Does that get me any points?
Yes, that is our Southern Snow. A seasonal occurrence. At least it is in my yard. The droppings (if you will) of the Bald Cypress aka Taxodium distichum. I have an ongoing love/hate relationship with that tree. It's beautiful ... both the lush green of the summer and the blazing orange of fall. The squirrels love it's fall bounty. Those pesky things. Both the squirrels and the seed nuts, which they crack and drop onto the ground and driveway, which in turn the dogs romp in, which in turn spots their furry coats with sap, which in turn can eat into their flesh if not washed out regularly. And they hurt your feet (even with shoes on). Ugh. And then there are the knots, or, I think a more politically correct term is knees. They are everywhere. My husband seasonally cuts them flush with the ground to keep his dear wife from turning another ankle or tripping over them. I'm not as gracious as most southern belles.
|Fall color and those pesky seeds|
|This isn't a pic from my yard, but not an exaggeration. This is mild!|