Today is dreary.  The clouds have stretched over us like a gray blanket and our foliage is not only fading, the leaves are drifting off the trees, cluttering our driveway with crunchy reds and yellows and dappling the back lawn.  I'm reminded that it will soon be time to rake up some of those maple leaves to mulch my vegetable garden.

We worked outside yesterday afternoon, giving the cedars a final clip before winter and cutting back the peonies, phlox, rose bushes and day lilies.  We cut back the mock orange or syringa bush and gave a snowberry (at least I think that's what it is) that came from Fred's parent's home in St. Albans a major cut back.  Even the holly got a decent trim.  This has been a great year for all the plants around our house, so things had gotten a bit out of control.  I'm needing to tackle the old lilac bush, but may wait until next spring to do that one.  I have some new lilacs coming along, but it's the old one that my parents planted when they built this house in 1962 that I treasure most.  

Our burning bush is spectacular this year.  But it almost always is. This is another bush that my parents planted.  There was another, smaller one from near the main bush that I had transplanted, but it died a few years ago.  Both bushes showed signs of struggling that particular year, with parts of the larger bush appearing to be dead.  We removed huge chunks of dead branches from it that summer, and I thought it was going to die, as well, but the following spring it seemed as good as ever. 

Burning bush is considered invasive in parts of the northeast, but I've never seen any evidence that the one we have creeps much at all.  There are lots of weeds in my flower beds, but I'll mulch the beds heavily and deal with the weeds next spring.

Fred has mowed the lawns for the last time.  The grass is looking a little shaggy, but we find there's less danger it will winter kill if we don't crop it too much in the fall.  Besides that, the wildlife seems to enjoy munching on the tender grass this time of year.

 When I'm looking at old photographs of homes in Cabot, it's interesting that the grass was usually left to grow naturally - perhaps it was cut with a scythe a few times a summer, or perhaps goats, chickens or cows were allowed to roam and graze - but lawn mowers as we know them were not invented until 1830, in England.  It took a while for companies here to begin manufacturing them, but by the late 1800's there probably were a few people who had them, even in Vermont.  This first photo is of the D. K. Adams home, later owned by Dr. Burbank, and now owned by the Westervelts, and shows there was little if any grooming of lawn or shrubs going on here. 

The second picture is Dr. Wiswell's house, and this seems to have ground cover instead of grass.  

These two houses are still standing, but there have been changes made over the years, of course, and both have lovely lawns.  

Today I learned from Jane McKay, Dr. Wiswell's granddaughter, that Slim Payne is planting trees along Main Street in Cabot.  Jane mentioned there used to be tall maples and elm trees on either side of the street not too many years ago, (see postcard above) but all are gone now. She told me Slim Payne, Cabot's tree warden, has been planting trees in the village this year, and will plant one near their house to replace a big maple they had to remove a few years ago. 

I never knew what a tree warden did, but I looked on line and discovered they are actually responsible for lots of duties regarding trees in a community - replacing, cutting, pruning and managing the town forest, etc.  The postcard above shows Main Street looking north about in the early 1900s, and shows lots more mature trees than are seen there today.  It looks as if the road had not been paved, and probably during the winter the street was rolled, so there was minimal damage - not like today when salt and plows take a toll.

At this moment it's wind and rain taking a toll on our pretty foliage.  The temperature had dropped since early morning and the forecast is for "possible snow showers" Sunday night.  We knew it was coming . . .