“Floored.”

Our old floor (creaky, leaky, squeaky and drafty but beautiful) from the mid-1880’s in our small Savannah Historic District Abode.
“Floored.”

Our old floor (creaky, leaky, squeaky and drafty but beautiful) from the mid-1880’s in our small Savannah Historic District Abode.
“Under”




“Green-Goddess”

A blog category of pics I’ve taken of Hubby Robert and … well, just about anything.
Robert and an early foggy morning walk on River Street near us here in Savannah.



“Mauve-lous”



For the second week in a row, I’m going marveling instead of moaning this Monday morning!
Why? Because our little potted Japanese Maple just outside our door has finally stopped being so stubborn and admitted that it is autumn.



Thank You!
(It’s about time.)




My stomping ground, Historic District Savannah, is a lovely place anytime of the year. But D.A (Downtown Autumn) is especially beautiful—and comes in a pretty close second to our Azalea-d Spring.


On a stroll this morning, I decided to ignore the leftover Halloween displays and just concentrate on Fall. Here’s a sampling of what yelled “Hello there, look at me!”
Glorious stairs, leading Up:





Wreaths:





Boots:

Camellias (Savannah’s “cold weather azaleas”) ready to burst into bloom—and a few getting a head start:




Ralph:

Odds and ends:








A pink pumpkin:

A cool courtyard:

Two hanging baskets, who drew me close and whispered, “Please. Please. Get us outta here. Haven’t we grown enough?”

Loquats—a native Chinese fruit found growing More often than you would think in historic district courtyards and tree lawns.


And finally, our fair abode, which now seems sorta shadowy compared to all those others I walked by.

But what a beautiful D.A. we have here in Savannah’s Historic District. Thank you, Autumn.