Friday, November 18, 2022

End of the Season

Three weeks of raking and trimming have left me tired, bloody tired.  68 bags of leaves, a record this year and I hadn’t finished, made their way to a local farmer for his garlic beds.  What a sweetie he is.  Once the leaves were dumped and mulched he returned the bags for another fill.  “Hhmmm, it seems I’m doing all the bull work Glenn” I said after the last bag return.  He chuckled as he left with another full trailer.  Hopefully he will remember my contribution when the garlic is harvested. 

We talked about the quantity of leaves this year.  Tree’s were full and healthy after such devastation last year when gypsy moths ate every living leaf and left tree’s bare by August.  It was a sad, sad landscape.  With a cool spring, then lots of rain they recovered and gifted us with shade and coolness.  This pale redhead was ever thankful for the covering.

There is a movement to leave leaves until late spring so insects have a nesting place.  I’m for this in certain circumstances however my garden may have 4” of soaked leaves that prevent rain from soaking into the soil where it is needed.  I also don’t need the garden overrun with ticks or leaf rippers or lily beetles, etc.  Birds are well cared for as are pollinators.  I choose my enemies wisely.  ;)

One week past the temperature was 75F and I was toiling in the garden dressed in shorts and a T, finishing bulb planting and ensuring recently plantings were well stomped into the soil with a good layer of compost on top. Even violets had begun to sprout.  Five days later temperatures plummeted and soil froze.  Brrrrrrr, day temps are now 0F.  We knew it was coming just not this fast.  The garden and Pond is now in limbo until late March, early April when Mother Nature conquers the battle with Winter.  

I have saved oooo about four dozen Begonia’s that will need nursing, plus the garlanding of home and Christmas lights that need stringing and feeders requiring filling twice a day. Beloved plants are safely inside and Amaryllis potted for Christmas are growing daily.  While it’s a sad time of year reminiscing about bare feet in warm soil and inhaling fragrance from newly bloomed fleurs there still is life.  Only in bundled form.   


Thursday, November 17, 2022

forgotten - haiku


strung in frosted webs

rusted urn marks forgotten

family at rest