"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness
Close bosom friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless"
Berries begin to ripen on the pyracantha. A seedling plant, the seed dropped by a bird in just the perfect place, has been trained into an espalier.
The ornamental chili plant rushes to make new 'pearls' in the hope that they will ripen in the late autumn sun.
The mockingbird has returned. I wonder if he is the same one that was here last winter. He knows there is a bounty of chili pequin, lantana, pyracantha and yaupon berries. Enough for all the neighborhood birds. They won't be allowed to feast here because he patrols from front to back all day, sleeping in the Lady Banks rose at night.
"And still more later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease"
Now is the time for the plants which respond to the shortening of the days. Frost weed, Verbesina virginica, so named because with the first freeze the stems split open exuding sap which becomes a mass of frothy 'ice'.
"Where are the songs of Spring, Ay where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too"