I was crouched by the pond today, musing that I had yet to see a turtle in it, when something drifted into view:

Oh! I was thrilled! I was -- wait ... it's ... dead? I watched it hang in the water for a long time without moving as I wondered whether our pond is actually as healthy as I'd hoped. Finally the little turtle stretched out its wee legs and lazily turned over.

Whew! I found a second one nearby doing the same kind of thing. I'm guessing this is a form of camouflage: maybe if it looks enough like a floating leaf, it can escape being eaten. The great blue heron was also at the pond, hoping for a tasty turtle snack. I could only find two baby turtles, but I'm assuming there were many more to begin with and some have fallen victim to herons and other dangers.

This one put on a mad burst of speed:

Yellow Jewelweed:

And Spotted Jewelweed:

Bees have to really commit themselves to reach the nectar:

The seedpods are excellent fun because they pop open at a touch, spewing seeds and little green springs all over. I've read that you can eat the seeds so I tried one this morning. I found it quite pleasant, but I'll save any more I gather for smuggling to Beechwood and planting.

As fall approaches I find myself wandering through -- or past -- Beechwood without actually doing any work. I accomplished a lot over the summer and now I think I'll just admire things before winter arrives. The insects are still very active:

A cardinal wonders what I'm up to:

A sedge extends its seeds over the pond:

Oh, little rose tree, bloom!
Summer is nearly over.
The dahlias bleed, and the phlox is seed,
Nothing's left of the clover,
And the path of the poppy no one knows.
I would blossom if I were a rose.

Summer, for all your guile,
Will brown in a week to Autumn,
And launched leaves throw a shadow below
Over the brook's clear bottom, --
And the chariest bud the year can boast
Be brought to bloom by the chastening frost.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

That's our great big bur oak. It has a lot of dead branches but it seems to carry on.

I didn't intend to wade into the muck today but I spotted an Argiope aurantia on the Islet of Langerhans, so what could I do? They're too impressive to ignore.

Did you notice what she's planning to have for dinner?

We could use some rain any time. The pond is losing all its pondiness:

I spotted the Loch Ness monster lurking in the scum:

In places it looks more like a tar pit than a pond:

The crazy clump of cattails is going strong:

Back on dry land, I went over for a closer look at the bur oak and -- wouldn't you know it? -- found another argiope spider:

Elderberries: who's ready for pie?

Knotweed day! See all those seeds ready to find a new home? I decided to deal with the regrowth right away, along with a few bits I'd missed around the pond. As I worked a couple came along with their dogs and asked about what I was doing. They were curious about poison ivy too, so I walked them down the path a bit farther and pointed some out. It's good to have a working knowledge of it!

The pond's water level is dropping as the dry weather continues. I could easily cross to the Islet of Langerhans now, although I'd still want my spiffy boots in that mud:

There's still lots of raccoon activity around the pond:

Boneset (white) and Joe Pye weed (pink) pose with some goldenrod beside the pond:

I found this mass of roots beside the pond too. Not quite sure of the reason for it:

Remember the lovely blue flags?

This is what they do in the fall:

The offshore butter-and-eggs tried to spring up again without my noticing, but I'm not that easy to fool:

The wild grapes look just about ready. If I were more ambitious I'd try making jelly, but I guess I'll just leave them for the birds:

There's more boneset in the north half of the site. In fact, there's a very large patch, so if your bones need setting, drop me a line. Can you see the purple-flowering raspberry hanging in there at centre left?

A closer look at the boneset:

Some dog-strangling vine demonstrates its talent for climbing trees:

Here a seedpod has split open to free the fluffy seeds:

In general there's an air of winding down and the beginnings of decay. The flowers that are left are looking a bit worn:

More fluffy seeds ready to take to the air:

The damage from insects and blights can produce its own kind of beauty:

Spot the grasshopper hiding in this picture!

The first thing that caught my eye on the way to Beechwood today was an addition to the big figure 8 that's been on the bike path for a while. It now features a couple of bright yellow embellishments:

I assumed it was just kids having a laugh (hey, it made me laugh) but later I saw a surveyor at work further along the path, and I couldn't help noticing the fresh markings he'd made on the pavement. In bright yellow paint. Hm.

Remember the patch of Japanese knotweed across the path that was cut down a little while ago? As expected, it's staging a comeback:

I'll try to knock it back once more before the end of the year. Today I got rid of some more tansy -- I'm feeling pleased with the amount of tansy I've dealt with this summer! -- then amused myself by removing some dog-strangling vine. I didn't dig it up, just pulled off what I could, even painstakingly unwinding it from a young sumac; this won't make much difference to the big picture, but at least those particular seedpods won't be spreading their fluff around.

I discovered another empty nest today. It doesn't look very comfy:

One problem with having the goldenrod rising all around and above me: ANTS!

Here's a stinkbug on a cup plant. Honestly, can't we find a better name for these guys? They're such a cool shape.

And have I mentioned the spiders? Can you stand a few more?

They like to build webs around/in the holes in the fenceposts. There's one lurking here at the base of its large, complex home: