Life & death: nature’s seasonal ‘sayonara’ – I am now

November 1, 2023

This is part of a memorial garden in a park named ‘Pinafore’ in St. Thomas, Ontario, not far from where we live. I would love to credit the artist who made it, but could not find his or her name anywhere. This empty wall, in future adorned with brass plaques that celebrate the life of a loved one, now seems an ode to the bare trees that will soon mark the end of fall, the start of winter.

This morning on the first of November, I woke up to a garden covered in frost. The first efforts to produce snow were thwarted by the relatively high temperatures of the past few weeks. Tiny snowflakes fell, but melted right away when the sun got up. But I am sure nature will not give up. Winter is coming. But it does not have to be all doom and gloom, if you know where to look… Come along as I show you some beautiful splashes of colour…

*Frosty snow chips on our feeders: it’s a first since we moved into this area in March of this year.*

Someone once said: the fall colours are the flowers of the trees. I kind of like that saying. It makes me look at the falling leaves in a different way. Fall is a time of transition and as if the trees are aware that soon the door to winter is opened and want to display their beauty one last time. In particular on sunny days this can produce stunning yellows, oranges and red.

*Maple tree in full attire showing off just after noon*

This reminds me of the lyrics of a song by, I believe, the Australian singer Doug Ashdown. I cannot remember the title of the song, but the line went something like this: “How do you know there is a river in the dark except for the streetlights on the other side”. In my own image above, it would be: “How do you know there are houses on the other side [of the river], except for their reflection in the water?”

My beautiful, colourful garden planters that gave me so much joy this summer, are now slowly but surely turning into a graveyard of dying flowers. Some, though, courageously keep producing flowers, one of which is the poppy plant I sowed from a handful of seeds. I am enjoying every single one that opens up. Poppys have special value this month, as they have become a symbol of remembrance of soldiers who have died during wartime. They are beautiful flowers that sometimes remind me of little angels, dancing with outstretched wings…

Even now, after plummeting night temperatures, the poppy buds have not stopped appearing…

*I applaud every single one of these fragile beauties…*

Other flowers are not as energetic and are clearly at the end of their lifespan. Here are a daisy and an anemone I bought at the end of the summer season. As they looked then and as they looked today…

This cone flower was a sight for sore eyes in summer and I have to say: there is still a lot of charm in it now that the petals have shriveled and have lost their colour.

The Cosmo flowers (above), that our garden produced in multiple colours giving us stunning colours, have completely changed. I would hardly recognise them. Although the setting sun did give them a certain ambiance of beauty…

Besides the poppies, there are some flowers that also do not give up until the very end. Meet the geraniums, the viola tricolour and the carnation… Enjoy the colour of these hardy creatures…

*There are some signs of upcoming decay, but those viola’s… they jumped from their spot into the carnation lot, naughty naughty! But beautiful.*

*This new bud in the geranium, let’s call it the promise of a new spring…*

My footsteps of course also turn to beautiful Port Stanley. Today, after lots of cloudcover and tiny snow flakes, it cleared up. Whatever the weather is, I love this place. I am looking forward to seeing what this will be like in the dead of winter… For now, even though the ‘summer people’ have gone, there is plenty of life in this little beach town that I hope to call my home some day. Look at how the fishing boat brings in flocks of seagulls from Lake Erie…

Stay warm, all of you! Chat more soon…

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