We pass the park several times a month, on our way to Central City mall. Sometimes, if the weather is right, we drop in for a look at the gardens; the flowers are always beautiful and there is a creek with ducks and dragonflies, a train full of kids in season, a skeleton of a wedding chapel. The lawns are wide, ringed with tall trees. A peaceful interlude before we brave the traffic and parking lot insanity at the mall.
Now, at the end of October, most of the flowers have disappeared. The grass is sopping wet, the creek bedraggled and choked with fallen leaves. The big leaves of the Gunnera are half rotten. The wisterias draped over the arbour and gate are just a tangled mass of brown stems.
I find it more beautiful, even, than in its summer glory.
A tree-full of red.
A sprinkling of little mushrooms.
High overhead, dried oak leaves and acorns.
A big wasps' nest, probably abandoned now that the nights are cold.
Hybrid mallard/??. Look at those pretty feathers on the wing! (Click for full size.)
Spiky needles on a pine.
Begging for peanuts. Sorry, I had empty pockets.
A few flowers still bloom.
And a new resident; the green bear!
We passed a few gardeners laying out bulbs for spring flowers, several wheelbarrows full, even after a couple of large beds were set out. I asked about squirrel damage; at home, every year the squirrels have dug up and eaten most of my crocuses and daffodils. The gardener explained their system: the bulbs are laid out, then about four inches of topsoil go on top. After that, bloodmeal, which the squirrels hate. Then another three inches of compost, and another layer of bloodmeal. Sometimes they add a sheet of wire netting on top.
Next time I'm at the garden supply, I'll get more bulbs. And bloodmeal.