The hazel tree beside the back deck has already produced its winter catkins while the leaves hang on, still not fully turned from green to golden. They dangle there, wiggling in the breeze, nearly two inches long already. When has the hazel tree ever produced catkins in October?

The red flowered Camellia which normally blooms just before Christmas has covered itself in flowers already. And there is a tiny red flower on the tip of the tallest branch of the Japanese quince shrub.

I am waiting for rain. Still. Watching day after gorgeous day come and go as the trees grow more colorful with each sunrise. The leaves shower down like snow with the lightest breeze, and already the crape myrtles are nearly bare.

October ended as a golden autumn day that reached nearly 80F here. It was warm and dry for the kids to trick or treat and the older folks to sit outside and watch, if they wanted to. We are watching birds flock up and fly together in beautiful synchronicity. Butterflies linger.

I spent much of this week chasing after pawpaw trees to get a few solid photos for an article I published this week. Thank goodness friends gave me better photos with permission to publish them. My camera lens has grown scratched and it is doing strange things with the light. That’s what you get when you carry around a good camera in a gardening vest, I suppose. Once (or twice?) it ended up in the wrong pocket- the one with the different secateurs. I didn’t even think about the pointy tips pushing aside the lens cover and damaging the lens.

So now taking photos has grown a bit more challenging. And I have to rely on the kindness of friends for articles I’m posting on the Master Gardener website when I don’t have photos in my files ready to use. But I’ve never been a great fan of pawpaws, and those same friends encouraged me to write about these amazing trees after a great article appeared in the Washington Post some weeks ago now. And I have learned such fascinating things about the “Secrets in the Pawpaw Patch.”

As it turns out, the wild pawpaws growing in our ravine have been steadily climbing up into our yard these past few years. Now that their leaves have turned yellow I am spotting pawpaw trees all through the ravine behind our home. Not that I’ve ever harvested or tasted a pawpaw. But there is always next year….

Since we are still waiting for rain, I’m still waiting to plant out the ferns I bought for fall planting. Any spare time for ‘gardening’ is spent watering the different planting areas to keep them going until the weather settles into a more normal pattern again. At least it hasn’t been hot.

But the Camellias are blooming beautifully. I’m so happy we have been filling this yard with Camellia shrubs. Several more wait on the deck, ready for their ‘forever homes’ in the garden before winter sets in. The Camellias we planted in our first years here have grown more than I expected. Camellias can be slow in the beginning, particularly in the early years when the deer attack them. But if they can survive the grazing in the first year or two, they grow into sturdy, reliable evergreen shrubs. And they certainly aren’t waiting to thrill us with their flowers this fall.

So many of us in the United States are feeling a bit anxious these days, worried about politics and worried about our communities. The garden can distract us for a few minutes with its beauty. I read this week that people who live within 300 feet of a tree suffer much less depression than those who don’t live near trees. I understand that. Trees, especially flowering trees are good for lifting our spirits. And we are all waiting, perhaps holding our breath a little more than we should, waiting to see what the next weeks bring.

I’m watching the sky and expecting it to rain. Any day now. And for things to go back to normal once again.

With appreciation to Jim Stephens of Garden Ruminations, who

hosts Six on Saturday each week.