John Hall frequently photographs his mid-Missouri surroundings, and he has been sharing his images with the Missourian for several years.
Late August and early September have had a couple of things in common: a lot of hot weather and the first significant rain since April.
On August 23, I was shocked to see irises blooming on the grave of Miss Daisy (the English Cocker Spaniel who died two years ago).
Those white bloomers didn't make it last spring, so they waited until now to show off.
Like their counterparts in St. Louis, the cardinals haven't enjoyed this summer all that much.
It has been just a so-so year with a lot of "dry spells" for both species. It looks as if the hummingbirds have replaced the St. Louis Cardinals near the arch. This arch holds the hummingbird feeder on my deck.
When Isaac finally got to Missouri, it was nice to see rain. The wren box seemed to be imitating a traffic cop in photos.
We missed the blue moon this time around due to cloudy weather. It was worth it.
Early on the morning of September 3, I was assured the universe was still in place as photos were snapped.
Back inside, I was still tinkering with the camera after a number of days of inactivity.
The little jar in the photo reads "Hi-Tech Gadget Fund" and was given to me on Father's Day. When asked what I want by my daughter, I always tell her, "I don't need a thing." She has given up on buying me anything. Instead, she puts cash in the jar. When it fills up and amounts to what one of those "Hi-Tech" Nikon cameras costs, who knows, I might find it cheaper by then and purchase one, which is purported to take photos three times better than the camera that shot the scenes in this submission. But again, when you aren't optimistic enough to purchase green bananas, why would you purchase a "Hi-Tech" gadget you'd never master or wear out?
Not much time has been spent outside in the last couple of weeks. A visit to the late producing tomato patch was ruined by the appearance of the dreaded tomato hornworm.
My first impulse was to stomp the tomato juice out of it, but I decided it should go to a penal colony. I exiled the worm, soon to be a huge hummingbird-like moth, to the Isle of Linus, which is located in the bird bath.
Linus has lived in that birth bath for 37 years, in such exotic places as: Topeka, Kan. twice; Columbia, Mo., on two occasions; Nashville, Tenn.; Tallahassee, Fla.; Atlanta; Austin, Texas; and Albuquerque, N.M. Linus came back to Columbia in 1991 for the last time.
On the way back inside from my tomato hornworm experience, I spied some fresh mushrooms.
I decided they might go well at the evening meal. I'm told those things could kill you if you don't know what you're doing. Since I don't know what I'm doing, it's a risky decision. If you don't get any more photos, well...