Twin Oaks in November

 

Suddenly, the tree color erupts.  At first, it is mostly yellow with some reds coming out a few days later.  Early in the month we had the hardest rain I've ever seen here, 4.25 inches in less than two hours.  That soaked everything really well, too well at first.  Then this gave way to many days of bright blue skies and sunny days.  The clouds were few and the temperature was cooler but not cold yet.  I wore my gloves while running only twice the whole month.

The first half of the month was beautiful with color.  Then those leaves fell and we were left with the mostly red late color sprinkled here and there.  The birds had mostly left us, far fewer cardinals, more crows and buzzards roaming the skies.  I heard a hawk several times but never saw one the whole month.

One thing I did see was when I was checking the mail box down at the road one afternoon.  Kudo was with me, sniffing around the tile in the ditch.  It was quiet.  There was no wind, no traffic.  It was the middle of the afternoon when everyone was at work.  I heard a cackle that sounded like a heron back to the north.  I froze.  Another cackle, too brief to be clear about the exact direction.  

My glasses scanned the sky until I saw the flock coming toward me over the treetops in the distance that border the northern part of Twin Oaks.  I counted them as they approached.  There were seventeen of them but only one of them, at the point of the flock in flight, was cackling periodically.  

They kept coming, looking like an up-side-down check mark. there numbers were uneven in flight.  I figured they must have just taken off from a large nearby pond.  Kudo is highly aware of birds and planes that fly overhead.  She has good, basic spacial intelligence.  She watched them as they shifted direction toward the southwest about 200 feet directly overhead.  Several of them switched sides as they turned and brought a more balanced "V" into being.  

They were long-necked birds, probably a flock of sandhill cranes headed south for the winter.  It was magical to simply stand there at my mailbox and, with Kudo, watch this small natural wonder unfold as if I had summoned it, which was not the case at all, of course.  Had I summoned it I would have brought my camera.  

I have enjoyed dozens of such special moments through the years here at Twin Oaks.  One particular moment I blogged about about here back in 2009.  Of course, I had that incredible encounter of the newborn fawn earlier this year.  Although I always curse not having my camera with me, I recognize these moments as opportunities to simply be aware and not trying the "capture" the moment.  That way the moment flows more naturally.

This November was mild and wet for the most part, like much of the rest of the year.  The color was about a week later than usual, largely due to the warmer weather, I think.  Many of the trees had already lost most of their leaves by the time we enjoyed the explosion of fall color against a blue sky that is a highlight of any year for me. 

Mount Airy Fothergilla.

This maple is glorious between the two oaks that were planted by my great-grandfather's brother who lived in these woods (which were a fruit orchard at the time) many decades ago.

I planted the elm in the foreground of this shot.  The yellow in the distance is from hickory trees.

Hickories usually grow is clusters as exhibited here.

This dead pine was blown into a neighboring pine when the remains of Hurricane Zeta came through in October.  Since it is the middle of my woods I'm just going to let nature take its course in terms of falling down.

A beautiful young maple on a foggy morning.

This maple turned color late in the month.  This is a shot of it with the morning sun reaching through the woods, the rays hitting it in a couple of spots.

 

Just before Thanksgiving I cleaned all the leaves and debris out of our carport.  This is the view looking east while I was sitting on the old tabernacle bench watching a slow rain fall.  In the distance is the wall of hollies I planted years ago.

Another Mount Airy Fothergilla, this one later in the month and more yellow.

Our Pineapple Sage continued to attract critters throughout the month.  I do not know if this is a butterfly or a moth.  Several of them hung around until late in the month.  The blur on the left is actually a second one flapping furiously. 

Another burred image on one taking flight.  Note the tiny fly-like critter on the bloom near the center of the photo.

Forest critters abound throughout the year.

There are three deer in this shot.  Can you spot them?

A shot of our back yard.  Right to left:  A mulberry tree losing its yellowish leaves before they can fully turn color, a reddish maple that we planted a couple of years ago, a hybrid oak that volunteered from mulch we placed there years ago, the red leaves of our finest dogwood trees, and a cedar. Facing northwest.

Our hollies put out berries all month.

The wall of hollies in the back yard were bursting with berries.

These berries were on our Savannah holly along the driveway down by the road.

There were many bright blue sky days in November this year.  This is a shot of two maples that have lost all their leaves.  They were yellow last month.  Behind them there is a magnolia that I have featured before and beyond the magnolia are some pine trees next to the original twin oaks in the center of the shot.  Facing northwest.

Late in the month I mowed a patch of the back yard extra low.  Jennifer is planting various wildflowers here that will bloom next summer.  In this way, we participate in the cycle of the seasons.  As you can see the mulberry tree has now lost all its leaves.  They fell before they ever reached a mature fall color.

November is a good time to start mulching garden spots.

I mowed the lower field.  One of the things I love about this time of year is the length of the shadows due to the changing angle of the Sun.  My burn pile of old brush and branches is in the foreground.

The other side of the lower fild looking south toward my driveway, which is where I was standing when I took the previous shot.  Again, this was an open field when we bought the property.  All of these pines volunteered and have grown from seedlings.  I feels special in that way.

This sassafras tree is in my upper field.  It puts out tight white bulbs this time of year.

These mini petunias lasted most of the year but were gone by Thanksgiving.

The loropetalum blooms twice a year, the second time in November.

The first frost was on the morning of election day, but otherwise it was not a cold month.  I keep this part of the lower field mowed next to the road.

Highlights: The color.  A glorious flock of sandhill cranes.  More crows and buzzards.  Fewer cardinals and blue jays.  Cleaning leaves out of the gutters (more of a lowlight).  Long afternoon walks through my woods and fields with Kudo.