Autumn harvest icons

We're still in autumn mode here in Prescott, though there are only a few more days that I would be entitled to post these pictures. As the years have gone by, I've noted increasing emphasis on farm produce that is symbolic and/or decorative rather than edible. Or, at least the current use is symbolic. I'm pretty sure that, in a pinch, a good cook could make a decent pie from those baby pumpkins and that the decorative Indian corn could be ground into a meal suitable for muffins, fry bread or porridge.

On the other hand, I don't know about all those cute gourds. I think they serve better as a centerpiece than hollowed and dried to use dipping water from a spring. Too dang small. Still, a music group might like them fashioned into colorful rattles for the rhythm section. All very authentic, you know.

(Above) among the more unusual gourds spotted at a Prescott Farmer's Market this fall...and among the more usual (below).

Also making an appearance in the market this week -- brightly polished pomegranates. This fruit from ancient times is enjoying a mini boom, thanks to the food faddists having recently discovered some new magical nutritional value. My own memory of pomegranates from childhood is that because of the seeds, they are frustrating to eat (though tasty) and that my mother hated the stains on my clothes.

Linkage: Those of you with a divine itch that requires a luxurious scratching will empathize with (and envy) the little owl in this YouTube video. And here's another video for those of you who love old cars. And don't overlook the Moscow Cat Circus.

Oh, the irony of it all!

You may recall that three years ago, Young's Farm held its final pumpkin-picking fall festival before signing papers for its Dewey acreage with a major developer (M3). All thanks to a cockamamie statute which would trim back water rights (and resultant value) each year the land was used for agriculture, from 2006 forward.

Fast forward three years. A special event permit will allow Peter's Pumpkin Patch to open its vines to the public for picking the great orange squash, now through November 1. Location: the former site of Young's Farm in Dewey-Humboldt. Oh yes, there's also an eight-acre corn maze. And a hay ride. Sound familiar?

What's going on, you might ask. For starters, the developer and the new town city fathers of Dewey-Humboldt disagreed about plans for the big property at SR69 and SR169. Frequently. And so any major plans stalled even as the current real estate bust took hold. As a result, most of the Young's buildings are gone but nothing has replaced them.

In the meantime, caretakers have been farming the land, while the Young family is happily transplanted to a spread in water-rich Oregon, and Windmill Farms up in Chino Valley has staked out the fall festival venue as its turf. Go figure.

Picture credits: pumpkin on the ground courtesy of my next door neighbors, the wagon load from the Farmer's Market, and grocery store displays from Safeway and New Frontiers.

The beauty of back lighting

First, an announcement: this is NOT a post about the arrival of autumn, despite all those brilliant colors. But, the fact is that autumn leaves are excellent examples of just how back lighting enhances subjects that are translucent or transparent.

Two good examples: the maple (above) and the aspen (below). Very simple: the light passing through the leaves emphasizes the color.

In this case, back lighting creates a splash of brilliant red in between much darker greens. The red of the leaves below contrasts with the drab leaves on the ground which are lit with reflected light.


Last year, I became fascinated by the nasturtium. Here are two portraits of a single flower, dark against the bright outdoors (above) and brilliantly back lit (below). In truth, I find it difficult to choose between the treatments. How about you? Which do you prefer, hot or dark?

Virginia creeper, one of this town's major autumn showpieces, goes from drab (above) to brilliant red (below), depending upon the direction of the light. It really needs that sunlight streaming through the leaves.

Even if the creeper has not turned deep red, back lighting hypes the color (above, below).

What greens! Classic ivy glows given the right lighting -- as do the big leaves below.

Ditto for colored glass, whether it's an alien blue sun or colorful, collectible tableware at a McCormick Street antiquery.

Perhaps my most favorite use of transmitted light is the yard ornamentation I found along Gail Gardner one day. The home owner had simply filled big juice bottles with colored water and let the sun do the rest.

Links for the Day: Have you ever had a chance to study the underside of a hummingbird? Boonie caught a fascinating view from beneath; the little guys' tails make them look sorta like shrimp! The current fad for home grown eggs caught the attention of s. weasel, who comments about diapers being sold so that one's beloved family hen can roam the house. Plus: one of our bloggers, Sadira of Foolsewoode, was featured in this article in today's Courier.

Golden sycamores

Suddenly our sycamores are golden. Though I have a quite large folder of sycamore pictures, my fingers would not rest until they had opened the shutter to these brilliant late afternoon trees next the Lincoln School.

The sun, low to the west, sent light through the leaves -- our final hurrah for a dry autumn; this year, these particular sycamores are outshining the earlier performance of the neighborhood aspens.

By Tuesday, we can expect a series of northwest storms lasting three or four days, at last prediction. The leaves will be gone when the storms move out. But the moisture will be very, very welcome. After talking with my Aussie bro this evening, I realized why we've had such a dry period -- he reports that Perth has enjoyed an unusually wet November. It's a seesaw; when bro has unseasonable moisture, he's taking it from us. Been that way for years.

Remembering summer: Courthouse Plaza

We have our own particular summer here in Prescott. All because we have our very own civic lawn, right in the center of town. It's a carefully curried greensward that every summer supports booths and crowds for weekend shows, as well as smaller crowds enjoying musicians on weekday evenings. Quite understandable that our Courthouse Plaza was just honored as one of the USA's 10 top public spaces by the American Planning Association.

But, I'd say, equally important is that local folk and visitors alike simply hang out on the lawn at the Square. Here's a look at some of the less frenetic activity. When your toes start getting chilly, remember there'll be yet another summer.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. The Square is the best place in town to enjoy kicking up the leaves dropped every autumn, tho it takes the right timing to arrive after a maximum leaf fall and just in front of the rakes and leaf blowers.

Jack Frost arrives

Last week's cold snap finished off the marigolds and the cannas, both of which had been brilliant prior to the frost. That's the way of the seasons here. Currently, we are enjoying pleasantly cool, eminently walkable days though our nights are now at 2-blanket temps.

However, one great disappointment this fall: the Virginia creeper, which is our prime source of autumn red, was zapped before it had a chance to put on its display. A few red leaves, here and there, but most of the vines in our neighborhood are drab (below).

The buffalo gourds do show up quite nicely in the midst of the plant's dry, dead leaves.

And the days are cool enough that if you do find a surviving grasshopper or similar critter, it is slowed down sufficiently to be photographed without any problems. I like that, I do. Not to mention the fact that the pansies and violas are happy, happy plants.

Prelude to Autumn

Sunflowers as far as the eye can see -- it's been a summer profligate with rain. With our break in the monsoon, the skies have dried up and our dayside temperatures are fixed in the 90s. Nights are a different matter; one blanket, at the very least. My golden rod now buzzes with bees...

...and I discovered a red gilia which had grown to monster proportions. Unfortunately, my camera has a mind of its own and selected a focal plane right in the midst of those swirled weed bones, leaving the brighter color as a misty garnish.

Despite the lovely R.E.D. of the gilia, we are moving into the season of gold. Example: this small plant covered by small yellow DYCs. BTW, I meant it when I talked of sunflowers without end. Just take a look at the pictures that Rich and Karoliina published on their blogs.