Looking across the street to our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm is always interesting.
But this time of year, it’s downright beautiful.
Who knew artichokes could be so pretty?
And when our neighbor has wood chips delivered….
HE HAS WOODCHIPS DELIVERED.
When you’re a farmer’s child?
You don’t need no stinkin’ sandbox.
On the critter front,
We’re down to one lone woodchuck.
He’s still fat…
And still clumsy…
And still hangs out on our deck once in a while. But it’s autumn, and all his brothers and sisters are finding dens and getting ready for winter. I doubt even this one will be here much longer.
Autumn also means the deer are changing into their darker winter coats. One summer coated hold out is on the right for comparison.
A murder of crows have now discovered our bird bath.
Why are they called a murder?
The Oxford English Dictionary suggests this is an allusion to the crow’s traditional association with violent death or its harsh and raucous cry. If you’ve ever heard dozens of agitated crows in full cry, it really does sound as if they’re yelling bloody murder.
As long as they don’t murder me in my sleep, I don’t care what you call them.
And finally, we have a new skunk in town.
I admit I never really paid attention to skunk tails before, but we’ve had so many different families this year I’ve gotten to recognize them by their individual patterns.
This is Tippy.
Brilliantly named for the white tip on her tail.
Is she really a she?
I neither know, nor care to get close enough to find out.