October Gold

October is the golden month.

Leaves change from deep greens to yellow, gold, orange and fiery red. It's the gold tones which bring magic to the days and enchantment as the sun sets at night. Please join me for a series of golden images taken around my home, Frank's area and up near the cottage. Sit down and I'll pour you a glass of golden mulled cider to keep the chill off.

On our way up to the cottage last week, I noticed this restored railroad caboose and quickly snapped a shot through my side window - hence the glassy appearance. (please click to enlarge)

There weren't too many moments of sunshine while we were away, but occasional snippets of sunlight illuminated the trees' autumn colours. Benny and I took advantage of the cold, but dry moments and walked for a while. Rain soon forced us to head back to the cottage. (please click to enlarge)

Back home, I discovered the last rose of the season had just bloomed on the bush in front of my house. It only produces flowers for two limited growth periods each year. In late June, I usually get about a half dozen blooms at one time, and then nothing again until September, when I often see one or two buds reappear on the plant. There was just this single, lovely rose this time. (please click to enlarge)

A walk around the park revealed autumn's presence. This stem of Ash leaves had fallen and was resting on the bough of a Pine tree. (please click to enlarge)

As the late day sun began to set, it gave life to the changing trees and their brilliant reflections. Hopeful ducks swam toward me, wondering if I might have some bread, but soon realized I had nothing but my camera in hand, and a sigh on my lips. (please click to enlarge)

At Frank's place, we took our usual walks along the creek. Life is very different there through the autumn months, since the spawning salmon attract ridiculous numbers of anglers from around southern Ontario. The shores of the creeks are crowded with people trying to get their hooks into one of these huge beasts - and not always in the most ethical way. (please click to enlarge)

The salmon leap up the ladder to return to their birthplace and die. As you can see by the carcasses in the background, many don't make it. In their exhausted state, if they land in the wrong area, they often lack the strength to return to the water to try again. Others just keep trying... (please click to enlarge)

A few of the several thousand salmon trying to make their way upstream this year.

This is roe - eggs which have spilled out of a female while she was dragged away from the water's edge. Sometimes the salmon are gutted simply to acquire the eggs (which work well as bait for trout fishing) and are left to die and rot on the shores of the creek. It's a disgusting practice - particularly since a few eggs can often be coaxed out of a live fish. The creature can be returned to the water to resume her journey, none the worse for wear. (please click to enlarge)

These wonderful flowers are in full bloom along the pathway. They seemed to just appear overnight, which is quite impossible because they've grown to a height of about ten feet. From what I could gather from Google, I believe they're called Sunroot, Sunchoke or Jerusalem Artichoke. Of course they're not really an artichoke nor are they from Jerusalem. (please click to enlarge)

As evening fell, there was gold to be found in the sky above. (please click to enlarge)

Even the electric light which cast a warm, amber-toned glow on Frank's back deck provided us with yet another golden moment. (please click to enlarge)

I hope you enjoyed the tour of all things golden. More cider?

Edging Into October

The subtle shades of September have begun to spark and catch the blaze of October's fiery reds, but I'll have to save their flame for another post. For now, I'm still living in the previous month when a late summer trip to the cottage beckoned, and we followed.

The drive from my home takes about four hours. Once we're off of the highway, and heading north and eastward, the countryside gently changes from flat farmland to rolling wooded hills. Small ponds and creeks spill over into view, reflecting the soft hues of the season.

There are a few standard stops along the way - the grocery store for perishables and something sweet. We act as if we're giving into a whim when buying the ooey-gooey delight from their bakery section, but we both know it's inevitable. Other stops along the way might include the dollar store for a needed item we realize was forgotten, the chip wagon for this area's best fries and of course the tiny but adequately-stocked liquor store for wine or some spirit to help combat the chilly autumn nights.

The last leg of our journey takes us through winding dirt roads that follow the lake. The curves are tight as the road rises and dips, hugging the hills which make up this beautiful lake shore drive. The land is dense with trees, allowing only an occasional glimpse of water when glancing off to the left. Driveways are marked with a column of wood-carved signs, proudly displaying family names which serve to announce that you're approaching your destination. Throughout the twists and turns, Benny begins to turn up his volume - worry-whining to remind us that he must not be left in the car when we stop this time.




When you see this sign, you know it's time to turn left and drive the last few hundred meters to the cottage. (please click to enlarge)




We were pleased to see that there was a boat available for our use. I liked the way the yellow swirl on the side seemed to continue its flow in the securing ropes. (please click to enlarge)




Once unpacked, we decided to take the boat out and cast a few lines. Benny joined us, but we soon regretted our decision to include him as he never stopped running back and forth - pausing briefly to lean over the edge to bite at our wake. (please click to enlarge)



Visions of his little frame falling overboard prompted us to leave him inside the cottage next time - much to his dismay. This was taken as the boat was pulling away from the dock. (please click to enlarge)




Except for one particularly cold and rainy day, one or both of us fished at least once daily. The early evening sky treated us to its paintbox of colours. (please click to enlarge)



One day, we saw temperatures dropping from balmy to near-nippy. That last evening on the boat became a bit uncomfortable as clouds obscured the setting sun. This was the last cast of the day. (please click to enlarge)




Early the next day, while we sat on the deck drinking coffee, we selected a lure to fish off of the dock, and planned a possible hike. (please click to enlarge)




Benny "relaxed" in the boat which was docked nearby - until he saw something that caught his attention. (please click to enlarge)




Sunning itself on the dock, was a tiny red dragonfly. Since it had caught Benny's excited attention, it was in peril of being inadvertently stomped upon by an exuberant Jack Russell Terror. I offered a finger and the dragonfly gladly accepted the invitation to relocate. It graciously allowed me a macro shot before we bid it farewell. (please click to enlarge for detail).


We hope to return to the cottage for one last visit sometime next week. During that time, I plan to schedule two more posts with more images from last month's stay. If I'm not making the rounds visiting your blogs, and not responding to comments at that time, that's where I'll be.