Such an odd plant is Witch Hazel, blooming as it does in autumn, and after frost. Somehow, these flowers get pollinated (by wind? by lady bugs or boxelder bugs who seem to swarm in the fall?) The genus name means "together with fruit," because this year's flowers are on the plant along with the results of last year's flowers—in our particular case a few knobby little things that look like tiny, flat acorns. These knobby little things are capsules that split explosively about 8 months after flowering, ejecting the seeds with sufficient force to fly for distances of up to 33 fteet. So far this season we have received no shrapnel wounds although we sit out on the back patio near the plant most evenings. Furthermore, we have heard no explosions (although living in a village as noisy as Noisy Village what would you expect?)

And here is what happens when you don't mow your grass:

Two old railroad rails have been abandoned here (it's what used to be a siding I suspect), and a mowing tractor has never been able to get between them). The result: a nacent forest. Nature abhors a vacuum. Mow early and mow often.