So far as I know, there is no species in the oak genus named after Henley’s famous poem. Maybe there should be one.
I took the photo described by the haiku with my phone right after mowing. That fruit was gone when I went out with my camera on the next day, but more were coming:
The color called “lilac” in CSS is a light purple, with equal amounts of red and blue. (The buds on this bush were a magenta, with a good deal more red than blue.) Eleven days later, this bush was almost done for the year. It looked like the flowers had indeed been lilac when fully open and were fading to lavender and then white.
Snow-laden branches,
sagging under cold wet weight.
But they will rebound.
Thriving on cold air,
icicles defy hot sun
(from a safe distance).
Leaves drop one by one,
each with a story to tell.
But can we listen?
With more shades of green
than I can easily count,
trees hail Labor Day.
Reach up to the sun?
Not that far, just far enough.
Photosynthesis
Red maples flower
and greet returning warmth with
rubies in the sky.
Big and little stones
could lean on each other for
mutual support.
Mellow Curmudgeon 