Autumn Zen and the Attack of the Killer Toadstools

  ...Autumn  Zen time is setting in.  I found myself sitting outside contemplating the the foliage as it  turns vibrant shades of yellow and red.  The air has taken on that special spicy quality that only happens in the fall.  Looking over the yard and its perimeters, I noticed something more than just autumn leaves sprouting in colonies.  Colorful toadstools were erupting overnight with all the rain we received in the passed few days.  At first I thought the display to be miniature umbrellas placed thee as an outdoor festival for the fairies in the woods and garden.  After a few days of observation I was amazed at the size of these toadstools.  They had begun to take on the appearance of something from outer space.  Some of the largest ones measured approximately eight to ten inches across, and were roughly six to eight inches in height. A few of these monsters were big enough to pose as birdbaths in the garden.  Upon closer inspection that had in fact held about a  half a cup of water from m the copious rains.  As a lover of portabella mushrooms, I wished these were edibles and not the terribly poisonous creations that had invaded the yard.  But they were a wonder to behold anyway.
     Meanwhile, for a short bit of time, I have secreted my bistro table and chair into the spot I called my sacred spot from last year.  It is a little like a duck blind as I sit, hidden from the traffic of the nearby road.  Lately I have been visited by lady bugs.  They have been crawling across the windshield of my SUV, and today one such critter was spotted crawling through the intricate pattern stamped into the top of my bistro table.  Once again, it brought forth the memory of those immortal words of Buckwheat, "Ah doesn't know where Ah's goin' but Ah's on my way!"
      The fall color has been stubbornly holding back, and any leaves that have changed color are already on the ground turning brown.  Due to the excessive rain in the spring and early summer everything here in Ohio is staying quite green.  It is in the warm 70's, and there is sunshine speckling through the leafy dick blind of my sacred spot.  Pushing into the middle of October it is inevitable that we will not see many more of these days of autumn Zen perfection.  I hear squirrels squawking for territorial rights as they gather acorns for the winter stash.  Nearby bees can be heard buzzing their contentment as they gather a last bit of nectar of the season.  The crickets never stop their constant sound.  It is amazing to realize that they are such small creatures compared to the noise they create.  From the volume of their sound one would expect them to be the size of small dogs.  Actually, we saddle them up for the fall version of the Kentucky Derby here in Norton...
      As I contemplate the fall garden, one good memory I will always treasure is that comment from a friend's mother as she strolled through my front yard garden.  "It feels like a walk in the woods."  Quite the compliment, I felt.  The burning bush shrubs were tall enough to create privacy and a colorful separation from the busy roadway.  All of the plantings were herbs, giving the space a quiet green atmosphere with delicate fragrances and minimal flowers.  At the center of the walkway was a carved stone basin contain a bit of water for the birds, bees, and butterflies to have a  refreshing drink.  Decorative garden markers and ornamental stone figures created visual interest in the small garden.  For such a small area it did have the private quality of a walk in the woods.  "Mission accomplished," I thought...