Marcescence and Going Into Reruns #ThursdayTreeLove

I don't know if I'm the only one, but if I look back at my 10,000 plus photos (please don't judge me harshly) on my phone, I find I tend to take the same pictures each year, over and over.

Perhaps it's an azalea or a rose bush I like.  Or a tree. 

Or a natural phenomenon.

Yesterday, spouse and I were exercise walking on the Vestal Rail Trail and I saw this tree.  You'll note it's not an evergreen.  Instead, it's an (I think) oak, holding onto its leaves.  They never fell off in fall.

Turns out, I took a picture of this tree two years ago and blogged about it (complete with snow on the ground).

So here I am again, going into reruns.

This time, the snow has melted (yet again) but the same tree is there, two years (almost to the day) older.

This occurrence is called marcescence, and is explained here.  Interestingly, if you look (using the link above) at the 2021 photo vs. this years, you'll note that in the 2023 photo, more of the upper branches are bare.  This is normal for oaks as the tree starts to mature.

Those leaves can shelter birds, and also provide certain benefits to the tree.  For example, deer are less likely to eat buds off branches that still have last year's leaves.

Trees have a wisdom that we humans could wish for.  As for me going into reruns, sometimes reruns are more fun than starting new.  I've been blogging since 2009, and maybe I'll rerun old posts on occasion during the upcoming weeks.

Joining Parul at Happiness and Food for #ThursdayTreeLove.

An October Walk and Drive

I was planning to post this on Sunday, but the death of Jay Black of Jay and the Americans prompted a tribute post. So I'm changing this a little and posting today.

Our part of New York State isn't the only area where the foliage show has been below average.  Part of this is because our temperatures, for the most part, have been above average.  In fact, we haven't received our first frost yet.

But climate change definitely has something to do with it. 

At our house, it got out to 70 degrees F (21 C) yesterday but I was working and couldn't enjoy much of it.  Today, we are getting rain and we are under a flash flood watch (yet again).  Meanwhile, the Eastern coast is getting a nor'easter. 

These first few photos were taken Thursday.

On the Rail Trail, trees are finally starting to turn but the color is still muted.  The clouds don't help.

Another view of the trail.

After our walk, we decided to drive on some of the back roads in more wooded areas of our area.

The fall foliage is behind where it normally would be, and the color isn't there the way it should be.

Here and there you see traces of what should be, though the colors are muted.

Ah, a little better. (Please forgive the dirty window - it was too cold to open them).

Still another view near the last view.

Oh, those clouds, with the sun popping in and out.

One more view.

By Sunday, the color was a little better. 

The reddish tree to the left is a dogwood, planted at a memorial to a woman who passed away years ago from breast cancer at the age of 38.  Her memory lives on in a charitable organization.

Virginia creeper.

Hoping the foliage gets better before the leaf peeping season ends or the leaves are blown off by a storm, whichever comes first.

The First Glimmers of Fall

Many trees are showing signs of their preparing for their fall and winter hibernation here in the Southern Tier of upstate New York.

Fall is coming, no doubt about it.  Chickadees visit my feeder, over and over.  Did you know the amazing process they use to keep track of every seed they cache for their winter feedings?  It's called "scatter hoarding".  I didn't know about it until earlier this year.  It's one of the many miracles of Nature unfolding around us.

The house finches have almost disappeared; it seems in our area many of them migrate south.  As for our hummingbirds, I will thank my Texas readers for safeguarding them so they can return to us in May.  (Thank you, Dorothy!)

Nuthatches and downy woodpeckers are visiting our "test" suet seedcake we purchased, as we get ready to feed birds through our winter.  We'll see how it goes.

Meanwhile, splashes of color are showing up in leaves here and there.  Here, sumac.

There, I don't know.

And an early fall wildflower bouquet Nature has provided.

Soon, the main fall Nature show will start, even as our temperatures struggle today to reach 70.  Later in the week, we will have lows in the 40's, meaning I have to start thinking about taking cuttings of some of my plants.  (More on that later in the week, perhaps).

Where did the summer go?

Back to The Standard Future?

Today, in almost all of the United States, clocks were turned back an hour.  We have an extra hour today to complain about the twice a year exercise of turning clocks ahead an hour in the spring, and an hour back in the fall.

Speaking of fall - a tree for you - picture taken Binghamton, New York October 30

When I visited Florida (from my native New York City) for the first time in July of 1966, I was amazed to discover that Florida, in the same time zone as New York City, was an hour behind New York City time.

Why?  Because Florida was on year round standard time.  They didn't jump ahead an hour at the beginning of spring.  They had the same time year round.  What a concept!

Now, residents of all but a handful of states (Hawaii and Arizona) find themselves, today, an hour behind themselves,   Groggily, they will march into the week ahead bemoaning Standard time.  Why do we need it?  Why do we do it?  Is it because of the farmers, as so many think?

Not necessarily.

Because of - as a website claims- a department store chain in Boston, in 1918?

For whatever reason, here we are again.

So, what is Standard time?  Why is my time zone called Eastern Standard Time during the winter and Eastern Daylight Time during the summer?

On March 19, 1918 (so we are a little past the 100th birthday of this thing), the United States adopted the Standard Time Act, enacting time zones and daylight time.

In 1919, daylight time was repealed.

But then it returned.  It has returned, again and again, to the western world.  The timeline is fascinating.

Now, Florida, the same state that didn't have daylight time in July of 1966, is wanting to have daylight savings time year round.  In July of this year, they tried to do just that with the Sunshine Protection Act.

Not so fast, Florida.  It seems no state has the authority to authorize year round daylight time.

Since Western Florida is in a different time zone than Eastern Florida, things could get really confusing when Florida interacts with the rest of the eastern United States.  (Just ask Indiana, which had a summer mish-mash of Eastern Daylight, Eastern Standard, Central Daylight and Central Standard times, depending on your county, until 2006.  I can tell you from experience it made driving through Indiana during the summer somewhat interesting.)

Last year, Massachusetts wanted to go on year round daylight savings time (or even make up their own time zone).  That went nowhere, too.

Sadly, in the past week, we've had a number of events involving cars striking children waiting for the school bus or trying to board the bus.  In the most horrific accident, three siblings were killed in rural Indiana crossing the road to get on their bus.

Five children, in fact, killed in a three day stretch.  Some say it's because of us trying to stretch daylight time (which used to end on the last Sunday in October until 2005) a few more days.

So, for how much longer will we go through this?   Maybe until Standard Time celebrates its 200th birthday?

What do you think of springing ahead/falling back?

Fantastic Fall - Sudden Leaf Fall

Why is a true full of leaves one day, and then, literally overnight, the leaves are all gone?

I've had a red bud tree in my yard for three years now.  It was given to us as a tiny sapling by a neighbor with brain cancer who knew he only had a matter of time left to him.  He ordered a shipment of baby trees from the National Arbor Day Foundation, hoping to give them to my son.  But my son did not have room for them on his tiny plot of land.  We don't have a large yard, either.

We did what we could and two trees survived - a cherry,which bloomed for the first time this spring, and the red bud.

The red bud loses its leaves overnight.  One day they are there.  The next day they aren't.  It amazes me.

At another blog, The Nature of Things, I found a poem written by someone about another tree, the ginkgo, which loses its leaves overnight.  I invite you to visit the blog and read the poem, too.

I'll blog more about the ginkgo tomorrow.

These were some of the leaves on our lawn this past week.

Next spring they will be spread on our community garden, and complete their life cycle, being reabsorbed into the soil.

Day 16 of NaBloPoMo.

The Last Leaves of Summer

Today, the sun rises on the last day of summer in the Northern Hemisphere.  It will set tonight on the first day of autumn.

After today the plunge into winter begins.  Daylight falls under twelve hours.  The sun angles change.  

Since leaves turning are a big part of the enjoyment of fall in upstate New York, I want to bring you some variegated leaves from the flower gardens my spouse and I maintain in our small city yards.  these are ornamental, not tree, leaves.

I concentrate so much on the flowers, I forget about the leaves.  I took these pictures yestserday, on the last full day of summer.

I am grateful for these plants - iresene, in the front.

Calibrachoa (I think it may be Celebration Sun)

Lantana Stephanie - it loved our hot summer (and that is continuing into fall).

The bloom season of this euphorbia is more into the spring but the variegated leaves carry on all summer.

Last but not least - pineapple mint.

Farewell, summer.  Hello, autumn.

Local Saturday - Pieces of Fall

This is one of those true "why didn't I think of this" moments.  Perhaps everyone in the Northeast United States is thinking that right now.

A tree turning in Binghamton, New York October 5

A man in the New England part of the United States is selling autumn leaves.

But not just any autumn leaves, mind you.  These are high quality autumn leaves, gathered on hikes this gentleman takes during his off-work hours. Each leaf is hand selected, devoid of holes or other imperfections. 

$19.99 U.S. will buy you three autumn leaves - one red, one yellow, one green or mixed.  A special solution is applied to the leaves, first, to preserve them, and they are shipped with a hand written note.

Would these catalpa leaves make the grade?

There, apparently, is so much to the mystique of New England leaves that some of his customers are from New York.  The same New York, apparently, that I and millions of others live in, blowing or raking leaves off our lawns while muttering obscenities, just a few hours drive from said New England.

Just think of the fortunes we have raked or blown away.   The chances of being on television - I've run into interviews of this man several times in the last couple of days.

Seriously, though, I remember, growing up in New York City and (in early elementary school) being assigned to pick up colored leaves and bring them to school.  Later, when my son was young, we used to take walks and gather the colored leaves.

We would press them between sheets of waxed paper, putting books on top.   We didn't quite use these methods, though.

Why are people so attracted to autumn leaves that they would pay this kind of money? This blog post may give us a clue.

Do you have fall color where you live?  Or would you consider owning some New England leaves?