Crepuscular

When climatic conditions are tough, creatures like Chet and I adapt. We've got a thing going on here in southeast Ohio...day after day of blazing blue cloudless skies, temperatures hitting 90 degrees every day--in late September!

The only way you can tell it's September is that it cools off to the upper 50's at night. That, and the fact that a lot of trees are going yellow and dropping their leaves from sheer drought exhaustion.

We haven't had a break in the heat yet. I can't remember a September like it. A 32-degree temperature swing from dawn to 2 pm! It's like living in the desert.

So Chet Baker and I go out before sunrise to get our exercise. And we see things. 

The Heavenly Blue morning glories, which have made three tremendous towers (we're talking 15' high) of lush dark green heart-shaped leaves, are only just starting to bloom. Never seen anything like that, either, but then I've never given them a couple of shovels of aged cow manure before. Why bloom when you can make leaves? Duh, Zick. Duh. Starve them if you want flowers.

Still, it's going to be uberfabulous for the bare month that they're in bloom, before frost cuts them off in their full glory. I foresee some sheet and blanket draping in my future, trying to protect them in late October. They're just too beautiful, and there are going to be hundreds of them! I can't wait!!! My Instagram feed is going to be solid blue. 

So off we went on a fine September morning, finding a surprise display as we reached the end of the driveway, one we couldn't see from the yard. Much as I wish our neighbors wouldn't wrap their bales in all that plastic, they do a nice job of catching the skylight.

You're going to have to click on this panorama, to fully appreciate the land's contours, the glorious dawn cloudage, and the way the pond catches the sky in its eye. And don't miss the little house, set aglow by the rising sun on the far right.

I took a little slice of the beauty.

As we headed for the Shadow Barn, I noticed three turkey vultures roosting on its roof--a first for me!

Then a fourth came to land on the telephone pole. Whoot!!

I told them they had nothing to fear, but they eventually lumbered off into the cool air, having to flap their dignity away. This one is already facing right, ready to go. 

Chet and I headed out into the monarch field, but there were no monarch caterpillars on the yellowing plants. It wasn't such a good monarch year here, but then I wasn't around to check very much, so some might have slipped through. The important thing is that Farmer Bob left most of the milkweed standing after the May cut, to let the caterpillars grow up.  

The light was incredible. And a big female kestrel was pondering on a wire, her shape so burly I thought she was a merlin for a moment. She took wing and in the deep shadows she looked bluish-brown above. Broke out into sunlight and it was clear I'd been deceived.

Rising sun, caught in foxtails. I like this photo because it somehow captured the intensity of the sun. I almost can't look at the brilliant spot, even though I know it's just white. It seems to glow as intensely as the sun!  I've been programmed my whole life to look away from it. So I do.

If there's sun, then there are shadows. I looked over and found myself high up on the Shadow Barn's roof! 

I wanted to be in the red, so I gathered Chetty and walked down the hill. This time of year is Shadow Barn time!

Shadow Tree time, too. I never tried the Shadow Tree before. Think I'll do it again soon. 

There is so much to discover in this one morning, I can't put it all in one post. More anon.