In The Time Of Goldenrod

Goldenrod dominates while the asters warm up for last of the season. All that neon yellow is a sight to behold, but goldenrod is not my favorite. I have four species. Two are very aggressive. The other two are robust.

My favorite of the bunch is the newly identified Solidago caesia, Bluestem Goldenrod. This goldenrod tolerates forest shade and still blooms nicely.

It also stays under three feet, in the shade at least. In full sun it is more robust and pretends to be a different species by having multi-stemmed flowering heads.

My least favorite is the five foot tall, rhizome spreading, Solidago canadensis. It is time to start culling it.

After a two year wait, the Tatarian Aster has bloomed. This would be a fine replacement for the S. canadensis or any number of other asters.

The Frost Aster, Symphyotrichum pilosum is the first to make a good showing.

Now is the time when I see the only monarchs of the season. Despite having two kind milkweed, they don't breed here. In my garden they are migrants passing through. I make sure they are well fed for the journey south.

The drought continues. The crack in the earth is getting bigger by the day. I suspect this is the edge of a trench in my septic drain field. I sure hope it isn't a sign of something worse.

Day two of the Tatarian Aster. I have four bloom stems. One got decapitated by a stem boring insect. This is a clumping perennial and I am seeing signs this year of new plants at the base.

First I heard a chicken screeching half way between crowing and a distress call. Then a clucking was mixed with the crowing. Sounded like more than the one chicken I thought was left.

Ten minutes later a loud crashing noise in the forest across the byway alerted me to the loose cows on the run. One, two, crash, three, crash four. Cluck. Cluck. Sigh........... Get up, the cows are loose. Moo.

There were a fresh new set of cow divots in my neighbor's scalped hillside of grass across the byway. Moooo. Moo. Honk. Honk. Honk. Sigh.......

It was the same herd of cows that were loose last week, but this time they were in Bulbarella's ridge top garden dining and smashing as they strolled along. Shoo cow shoo.

I shooed them to the back forty and went home to make some calls. The owners were located. Bulbarella called. They had turned around and come back for a second round of dining and smashing in the ridge top garden. Shoo cow shoo. This time I forced them over the fence line into the next county and headed down the old road towards home. Their owner arrived. Sigh.......

The Cow Capades continue.

I am fortunate that the cows have missed the sunny utility and Tall Flower meadows. They smash everything in their paths to bits. Bulbarella's garden is a shambles. Moo, cluck, cluck.

In the time of goldenrod.