Turtlehead seed pods

Yesterday's warmth departed on strong and chill winds, and though the previous afternoon's sunshine brought the Autumn Meadowhawk dragonflies out of hiding—how have they managed to survive the deep frosts?—I have no such hopes for this morning or later. We'll just have to see if these remarkably hardy odonates can hang on until the next warm spell. Today, there were no insects at work, and precious few birds. My guess is that everyone had hunkered down to get out of the bone-chilling breeze. In all honesty, had I not committed to a daily natural history and photography walk, I probably would have opted for the same thing. There wasn't much to shoot, save an angry sky, but I did want to check on the progress of the Turtlehead seed pods on the edge of the millpond. The blossoms of this pretty, wetlands-loving wildflower had been gone more than a month, but I knew it had begun crafting the next generation. Sure enough, the pods had started to open and the plant was almost ready to send forth the beginnings of next year's candidates for Ghelone glabra stardom.