Singing in the trees

A fortnight has passed without a park visit, while I hunker down beneath the madness of our Great Roof Replacement Epic. Yesterday, my painter friend, sensing an orgy of color nearby, dragged me to the Nethermead for a blissful hour of escape.

Four little trees in the Parade Grounds, clustered near the baseball diamond, have turned the exact same color simultaneously.

 

I like park squirrels; they do nice normal squirrelly things, like eat viburnum berries and bury acorns. Our house squirrels play bocce between the walls and "bury" half-eaten Jamaican meat pies on our windowsills, which I do not like.

A birder with a foot-long telephoto lens alerted me to the Blurry Bird of the Day: a Ruby-Crowned Kinglet. Had he ever seen their little ruby crown actually raised, I asked? "Only when they're really mad," he replied.

My vote for best leaf-peeping goes to the lake's south shore drive.

 

A haze enveloped the Lullwater. Painter Friend and I turned for home, where I looked up Ruby-Crowned Kinglets and William Blake's Autumn:

The spirits of the air live in the smells

Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round

The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”

 Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,

Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak

Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

--William Blake, "To Autumn"

Comments

[Leah Labrecque]

Thank you for the fall photos. I come close to tears if I let myself think about how much I miss the park!

[Brenda from Flatbush]

Well, come back and visit soon, LL!

[home security system]

There are several types of dog bred specifically for guard duties.