This is what greeted my eyes Friday (Nov. 3) morning: the first snow this season that remained on the ground instead of melting on contact. After the freak snowstorms in Buffalo and elsewhere, it’s rather yawn-inspiring, I know, but it does help one turn one’s face like flint toward the coming storms. No more remaining in denial, telling myself surely there will be a few more good days to get my yard-long “things left to do” list whittled down to size.
I’m standing on the porch, but the photo above is what I see through the kitchen door. We’re looking south onto the main play area for the family. This is about as level as it gets around here–and it is uncommonly uncluttered. The hundred-foot driveway runs along the house, and further to the left of the big clumps of uh, not-yet-cut-down perennials, the driveway turns into a parking area. By the way, we don’t own this entire expanse of cropped meadow. There is a conifer partially obscuring the house across the street, which is planted pretty close to the corner of our property, so some of the lawn you see here belongs to the neighbors.
Turning to my right, I look to the western hillside.
See that orange-looking clump at the far right? That’s a stand of larch trees (Larix laricina), also known as tamarack. They are a kind of conifer that is not evergreen. Their needles turn this glowing color and then all fall off. They grow in full sun, in areas that are moist to wet, so we can guess that the soil is poorly draining where they grow naturally. You may have noticed that the hillside is bathed in sunshine, while it is rather gloomy around the house.
That’s because we live in a valley, and at approximately 8 o’clock in the morning, the sun is just coming over the ridge.
Zoey is always complaining about garden bloggers not showing the big picture–images of the garden as a whole. Most of the time, the long views of my garden are filled with the detritus of childhood: play equipment large and small, the odd mudpie making operation, plus a lot of things that look like junk to everyone else, but are a crucial part of the latest “make-believe” game on the part of the little people. I am just about blind to most of it, except when taking photos. Since we had just finished fall clean-up, the landscape was relatively uncluttered, and some relatively uncluttered photos were possible, though I couldn’t resist a little cropping.