It’s complicated. I like this season but with reservations. Don’t misunderstand me. I love the colors. I am fond of color and they are so beautiful at this time of year. Even the brown and wet bits. There is nothing as cheerful as bright waxy yellow tulip tree leaves against a brilliant blue October sky.
But then comes November. And rain mixed with snow and the bright yellow leaves aren’t so bright any more. And they aren’t on the tree either. They’re piled at the edge of the yard where you hope they’ll be picked up by the town before they’re covered with mounds of snow.
Snow. And bitter cold. I am not a fan.
On Wednesday morning the first hard frost ended the life of the best cherry tomato plants I’ve grown yet since moving here (July 2006 for those who’ve lost track). So I spent some time pulling those up and getting rid of the sprawling gone-to-seed arugula and the spent broccoli plants. A few of the latter remain and have been fairly hardy in the frost thus far so they’re still standing. I also pulled up the last beet and roasted it for dinner — shamelessly keeping it all to myself as I’m the only one that really likes them at our house.
So the garden is essentially done for the year. Which means less work for me to do but less immediate joy in harvest-to-table. I have tried to savor it as long as it lasts. And we have hopes of building a coldframe for winter lettuces. Hopes but too little time have we.
Fall is also the harbinger of sock issues for me. I know that’s silly. I don’t like wearing them but they are useful in avoiding the whole cold feet thing. I don’t like buying them when I can knit them but they aren’t my favorite thing to knit. Particularly the second one of a pair.
Maybe I should develop the eccentric habit of wearing two different socks. I am fond of color…