The Last Flowers

I think this will be the last time this season that I go looking specifically for flowers.  They're essentially gone for the season.  That means the bugs that visit them are also gone.  The most interesting thing to me in these last days of the season is sensing the great range of micro-habitats one can encounter on a short walk.  Certain topographies and background colors can capture solar radiation so that a small patch of ground might be quite a bit warmer than the surrounding area.  That seems to be the case where I photographed the Red Clover above and the Aster below.  Just 100 feet earlier on the main path from the parking lot to the main campus there are lots of shade trees, and the contour of the hill blocks the sun.  It is so cold in the morning that the remaining insects, like a few groups of Oak Treehoppers, are totally immobile.  I gently scraped a few off a branch and they laid in the palm of my hand perfectly still for a good minute.  When the warmth of my hand penetrated, they started squirming a bit.  A few minutes later they began hopping away or taking flight.  When I walked that 100 feet further up the hill and came to the clover and aster the butterflies and skippers were already flying and the blossoms looked as fresh as they did in spring.

The maple tree whose color peaked a week ago is rapidly losing its leaves.  Every small gust of wind sends hundreds of them sailing.

The dense coating of leaves on the ground reminds me of pleasant Autumn days of my New England Boyhood, before I ever heard of leaf blowers.  I still can't get over this ridiculous way of using up our dwindling supply of fossil fuels.

When there are thousands on the ground, I can't help but look for one that is special.  It's similar to the urge I've had to find a special pebble on a beach comprised of millions of similar grains of sand.

A bit sheltered from the wind near the maple tree are several fresh-looking patches of Broad-leaf Plantain.  This non-native, like its cousin the English Plantain, grows along roadsides and sometimes in lawns.  This particular patch is growing in the lawn and, like dandelions, is particularly resilient to attacks by lawnmowers.  It has sent up flowering stalks quickly after a mowing time after time all summer long.  I wonder how many more cycles it can withstand before accepting the arrival of winter.
Another warm micro-climate is found in the landscaped area along the East wall of the library.  A very large and healthy-looking 1st-year Mullein (above) looks like it could have been planted purposely by the designer of the garden.  Nearby, there are several 2nd-year Mulleins with their flower-bearing stalks.  Some of these have been mowed several times and their most recent stalks are shorter.  Like the dandelions, they have the ability to respond to mowing or grazing by blooming before the stalks attain their usual height.

The Filaree are mostly gone for the season, but this one last plant by the library has become quite large and spread out to several feet in diameter.  Many flowers have come and gone, delighting those who know with their special seeds that curl up in their hands.  Yesterday there was only one remaining flower but quite a few seeds to ensure the species will appear next spring.

And the Chamomile is still blooming.  The scientific name is Matricaria chamomilla.  I mention this only because its close relative, Pineappleweed, Matricaria matricarioides, wilted and disappeared many weeks ago.  I wonder what difference in DNA programming or physiology brings about such a radical difference in growing season in such similar plants.