Montauk daisy and feeling lazy

The first real gust of air blew off the water when I was walking through the local cultural center this morning. That first blast that says it is really time to face the cold season that is rolling in. The magnolia tree is laughing at us and our never ending quest to clean up its leaves. The rake is barely put away, the groan of the garage door closing and those leaves start to trickle down to the empty patch we have just cleared. It has been a crazy growing season. The Christmas cactus, who took their usual summer respite on the back porch, are in full bloom and Thanksgiving has yet to happen. The morning glory vine on the lamppost that I nurtured from seed did nothing this summer. Now it has grabbed hold of the bare dogwood branches above it and it is sending forth bell like blossoms of periwinkle. The Montauk daisy which peaks when every thing else has finished for the season is always a wonder at this time of year. It stands strong among all the discarded leaves around it. This was a long week. I need to be more like the Montauk daisy.