Seasons Begin to Show

Over the past week the wall of vines has slowly morphed into an array of reds and yellows. The vibrant green that used to blend everything together is now only a slight glimmer poking through. I like the look of Autumn but the feel of Summer, but then Spring is my favorite season.
      In summer everything is leafy green and everything being a leafy green color it all blends together, monochromatic. During summer I feel like I can't see anything clearly, it is like walking into an entire room of green.
      Whereas in Autumn everything has its own shade of color, individualism. You can see all the lines, making the tree, blade of grass or flower it becomes real image.
      In spring I like the feeling it gives me. It gives me hope that there is still purity in the world. Everything is new, pure, unexposed to the evils of life. Now that my utopia is changing colors there will be a lot more to explore. It is like looking at it with a whole new set of eyes. Being able to see things that were blending in before. Like the shrinking pumpkin vine. I think the leaves are retreating because any heat that is captured by the plant is quickly ripped away by the sharp breeze that reminds you winter is on its way. The lack of nourishment is beginning to show as  the leaves reveal a hint of yellow appearing at the surface. One little under developed pumpkin still holds on, trying to grow. It being about the size of a Kiwi I don't think it is going to make it in time before the plant caves into the cold and decomposes into the grass, giving the grass a little more strength to stay green until that first snowfall. I'm excited to see what new wonders of perfection this yard will hold for the future.

Noticing the Unnoticed

     Concealed by the pumpkin infestation, little husked tomatoes grow patiently. Waiting to be discovered. Camouflaged, only a patient and curious eye can detect the timid tomatillos hidden behind their mono-colored cloak.

                                                             
       Slowly taking over the vibrant green grass, elephant ear leaves enshroud the forming pumpkins growing toward the sun. Imitating a flower, the leaves cup up as if they are trying to hold the sun. Sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting to be embalmed and carved, two pumpkins have been cut from their lifeline.

Concealed Beauty

Walking out into the backyard, there is so much happening that hasn't been taken in yet. So much happening under the surface of leaves and vines. It is not possible to notice it all at once. When you first look into the yard you don't see the "orange sphere entangled in a rope of vines."(field notes 9/27) You do notice the bright red peppers screaming with flavor in their gated half barrel; the pumpkin vine snaking across the yard in attempt to find energy and warmth to thrive on. In this little area of land there is so much to be discovered, unraveled, noticed.

     When first peering out the sliding glass door you see green and trees. But once you step out into my unexplored utopia, (-an ideal place or state ''dictionary.com") standing in the middle of the vibrant yard time stands still, it is only the here and now, birds humming their own tunes and a subtle, almost unnoticed, breeze flows through the trees. In one of the four half barrels there, an over-growth of tomato plant, is spewing over it's protection of wire, which has been engulfed into the plant. You can see it's attempt to sway in the breeze but the plump, ripe tomatoes weigh down the growing vine, almost touching the warm earth.

      Then with a little looking there are little specks of grey, different shades entwined up through the stem reaching for the sky, embedded in the grass, which I have come  to learn are mushrooms cultivating into villages among the sun spots.

So far, even with the little digging that I have done, this yard has amazed me. I've only unraveled the tip of the iceberg but I
hope to continue discovering and learning new things about my yard.