My pumpkins are still green but the leaves have been destroyed by the recent frost. The vines look OK. I keep holding out hope that these pumpkins will eventually ripen and turn orange. |
WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock, | |
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock, | |
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, | |
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence; | |
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best, | 5 |
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest, | |
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock, | |
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock. |
A few lines from the Hoosier poet James Whitcomb Riley. Some how I had this in my head as being a Robert Frost poem - maybe it was the word frost in the title that threw me. Anyway, I can completely relate to Mr. Riley's poem. The frost sure is on the pumpkin and we have a flock of turkeys ranging the woods and pastures - the first flock we've had on the place. Certainly the fodder's in the shock - everyone is busy combining beans and picking corn and soon all those golden fields will just be stubble, but until then the deer and the turkeys are having a good time eating up the farmer's profits.
The weather has been beautiful and the sassafras trees have some of the best color I've seen in years.
This picture of Jealousy with sassafras trees in the background isn't very good. It doesn't show the intense and varied shades of red and orange leaves that produce that color. When we were kids we used to collect the sassafras leaves, looking for really good reds and oranges. Then we would press them between the pages of old books. Later in the winter we'd find them in those books still strongly colored but flat and dry and we'd enjoy the an impressionist painting.
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