Wow! Just when I thought I knew, (more or less), about all the flora and fauna that surrounds me in my general vicinity, I made an astonishing discovery.
On our way for a nice walk on the boardwalk on Beverdams Pond; my husband insisted that we turn back because he saw quinces on the ground.
I told him that we don’t usually grow quince in Canada, as far as I know; maybe in the warm parts of British Columbia.
So, ( we never made our walk that day); we found the monkey brain fruit all over the ground. (It is otherwise known as Osage orange, or hedge apple.)
They looked like quinces, or large yellow apples, but had this weird brain cell-like covering.
So I found out, that they are commonly found in the southern United States, and you can’t eat the fruit.
The wood was prized by the Indigenous people and early settlers for bows and tools. It was also used as a natural fence, until barbed wire was invented.
Anyway; completely fascinating. The seeds must have been brought up to Canada by early American settlers because the trees, bordering the road, were very large.
P.S. Just to make it a little more weird; there is a theory that the only animals that really loved its fruit are now extinct; making it a very interesting anachronism, and history lesson prompt.
P.P.S. The fruit, apparently, also contains latex; so that was important for waterproofing.
As I turn down the lane, the flaming new red maples greet me; like giant red lollipops.
They are so vibrant; they awaken my early-morning senses to the shocking beauty of fall; that never grows old and is always new and invigorating.
The early morning mist rose over the pond.
The mist of the past; mist of memories; of those who were here before.
When their canoes drifted silently over the waters; and their voices were raised in song.
A patch of blue in a dark, foreboding sky.
Brilliant, blue, and a world beyond.
The dark clouds are temporary and will not last forever.
There is a clear blue sky beyond.
You are in my ice tea; my pizza; my sandwiches; and fruit.
Why won’t you leave me alone?
There is an insect; not appreciated; like the regal honey bee.
She is the dragonfly; exquisitely beautiful; a mosquito vacuum; expert flier; the envy of every aerospace engineer.
Dragonfly; I see you.
Monarch in the milkweed. As you flutter around, and rest with your wings closed, then open.
You flutter around and follow me to the back garden, where you alight in the daisies.
There is beauty.
All is not lost.
There is hope.
It was late evening, just before dusk; Mr. and Mrs. Goldfinch were enjoying a peaceful meal in the thistle patch. Then I came along. Sorry!
This was beside Lake Erie; close to the beach; in Rock Point Provincial Park.
When the birds have gone home to rest their heads, there’s others to take their place.
The bat comes swooping, in the dusk-laden sky, so we can see his fox-like face.