Stolen Moments and Photographs During the Luther Burbank Farm Fall Open House

In answer to the call for assistance put to me by a friend, fellow member and fellow past Co-Chair of the Farm Advisory Committee at the annual fall open house event, I traveled the 40 or so miles to Sebastopol on Saturday morning... Not an easy task at this time of the month when our household funds are at their lowest, I arrived with insufficient gas in my Jeep to make the return trip home and none whatsoever with which to purchase anything to eat for the day...

At the last minute before leaving the house, I'd taken a small, empty peanut canister, cut a slot in the lid, labeled it "Jean's Gas Fund" on the outside with a Sharpie marker and placed it in the Farm Barn near the coffee maker when I arrived.

I spent the day talking with visitors about the place and the plants for sale and communing with fellow Committee members from whom I've been almost unbearably separated these past two years or so since we moved here to Cloverdale.

Gratefully, one of my most favorite members of the Committee shared some of the sandwiches she'd made that morning with me for lunch and, afterwards, during a brief lull in the stream of visitors, I took a short stroll around the Farm -- snapping a few photos as I went.

What follows are some of those photographs...

At this time of year, the falling of the fruit and nuts of Mr. Burbank's trees attract wildlife from near and far... Attracted by his cries, I watched a red-shouldered hawk swoop out of a cedar tree on the boundry between the Farm and the cemetery next door and fly out of sight -- headed towards downtown Sebastopol.

In the near 100-degree heat, the squirrels -- which I imagine were the incentive for the hawk being there in the first place -- draped themselves limply over tree branches:

Or, like this one, burrowed into the cool soil at the base of the catalpa trees and lay spread-eagled on the ground:

In the middle of the busy open house, the local flock of turkeys filtered onto the Farm property searching for food... This one amused me greatly as he appeared to play his own game of soccer with a fallen apple:

By that time, my favorite autumn spot at the Farm was calling to me: The glade of American persimmons resplendent in their bright golden foliage tinted with washes of green and red:

Also at this time of year, the bright red haws of the Chinese and Mexican hawthorns decorate their branches in deep, dramatic vermilion:

As do the green-turning-orange fruits on the trifoliate orange trees:

Even the mock orange bush seems to have taken its autumnal cue from the American persimmon trees:

At the end of the day, I packed up my gear and then went to check my "gas donation" canister to see if I would need to start devising some other way to get home or, perhaps, prevail upon friends to put me up for the night.

Inside I found $48... :o)

'Til next time, precious Gatherers...

From the ole singlewide here in the wild hinterlands --

luv,

jean