Photographed just before sunset, the prairie’s flowery remnants were all dancing in the evening breeze.
Frosted Seedhead – Morning in Owen Conservation Park
Another photo from early morning in Wisconsin. Frost and mist give an extra bit of mood to a field of prairie flower seed heads.
Photographed at Owen Conservation Park in Madison, Wisconsin.
Frosty Morning Handiwork
Here’s the Queen with a bit of decorative hat. There is beauty even in the changes of the seasons, though I am fond of autumn’s color and mildness, and haven’t yet had my fill. I will have to keep autumn’s memory close by being satisfied with the photographs that stay – no matter how wild the weather gets outside.
An Autumn Hang-Up
Autumn is definitely upon us. Everywhere I look there is evidence of summer’s long past retreat and autumn’s complete domination. Two of the trees in my yard are totally bare. Brown, crunchy leaves are spread under their empty branches, and while I find it rather satisfying to stomp through the noisy litter, I’m not too thrilled at the prospect of the raking job that is on the agenda for this week-end – that is, if it doesn’t snow as is predicted.
My red maple is still fully dressed, and lovely. Deep reds at the very top meld into bright reds and then orange-reds towards the bottom of the tree. I’ve been waiting for the sun to shine to take a few photos, but without any luck. It’s raining now, and I haven’t the heart to even check the weather report for tomorrow.
Lots of photographers seem to be attracted to the simple leaf this week. I’ve seen a few outstanding examples. A pair of brown leaves here, and here is another favorite, with a great twist, and then one more product of autumn’s touch, and finally one with a foreign flavor.
How soon until we are all taking photos of that white fluffy stuff? Too soon, I’m thinking. Way too soon.
Milkweed Fluff
The Common Milkweed, a native plant in Wisconsin, has rough textured pods that contain thousands of seeds attached to strands of silky down. As the pods split in autumn, the seeds open like tiny parachutes and travel on wind currents to a new site to seed.
This silky stuff has been used creatively throughout the years. Settlers in the 1700s and early 1800s used the fluff to fill their pillows and mattresses. In the 1860s, thread from the down was made into socks and purses. During World War II, schoolchildren collected milkweed pods and the pods were sent to central processing locations. The down was used to fill life preservers and to line the uniforms of the United States Air Force. Milkweed down is extremely bouyant and a few pounds of this spinnery stuff can keep a 150 pound person afloat in water.