Ah, Autumn! Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. And one lone Bramley hanging out with her friends. The front garden beside them is putting on a fall show. Vetch is dragging the old ones down to the dark earth. They go willingly. Asters are still playing their tricks on the sun.  Summer’s poppies are still speaking Old Norse like they do. But all in all, things are coming to the point at which they all give themselves to the earth. Not all at once, though. But the earth is calling.

Even the gardener has heard.

Yes, that’s her getting a little sun.

She’s carrying a lot of eggs! A heavy load!

Her consort was by three weeks ago, but now it is time to find shelter.

The praying mantis is one of the reasons why the cricket songs of summer go quiet, but the  cricket songs of summer are a reason she comes by.

Fair trade. Oh, and there are perks.

And if you go inside, there’s Silesian apple cake, just like my Grandmother and mother used to make it. It’s that time of year. Rejoice.