The last defiant morning glories creep up netting draped over a second story window....
...while another twists its way up the first purple aster of fall, which is itself an intruder in the carefully planted border along the road. A seed blown over by the wind, or dropped, maybe, by a bird. Nevertheless, a welcome, familiar sight--asters grew all over the Field at the end of the road I grew up on.
The pink morning glories are still blooming fitfully all along the fence here, and but for the incongruous splash of pink blaring out from the middle, a passer-by wouldn't know the aster was under attack.
The spiders have appeared, seemingly from nowhere, suspended in midair between branches and wires and buildings. (more about them later...:))
The Japanese name is "Equinox Flower" since it blooms very nearly right on the equinox. As they say, "Atsusa mo, samusa mo Higan made!"--neither heat nor cold lasts beyond the equinox. Which was just last week, and it has cooled off considerably, so score one for the old saws:)) It's a flower people expect to see in the fall--in fields, on hillsides, along roads, in gardens. Children draw pictures of it at school; grandmas do watercolors of it on postcards.
And that butterfly up there? You have no idea how long I chased him today waiting for him to sit still. He was *supposed* to sit drinking nectar from the vine I always see him on (the subject of next week's field notes), but today, apparently, the ginko tree was the place to be.
Mata asobou, ne!