I knew it was coming, but somehow in my gardener’s brain I had blocked out how dramatically a hard frost changes the garden overnight. I woke up Saturday morning to brown foliage hanging on plants, pouty petals on the few remaining flowers and a general pallor over the landscape.
Of course the work in the garden is not finished even though if you can mark an end to the gardening season it is certainly the first hard frost. I’ll dig dahlias this coming weekend, continue cleaning up the perennials that add little to the winter landscape and continue to batten down the garden’s hatches for winter.
Later Saturday, a brutally cold day with winds that whipped snowflakes around like a snow globe, the sun came out and I saw there was still a little beauty left in the garden afterwards. With the right ray of light, the amber and brown tones so prevalent in the garden now come to life and transform into gold.
|This poor ‘At Last’ Rose was just starting to open when its time was cut short.|
It will have to be enough to hold me over until the sun brings warmth again, several calendar pages from now. Good night, garden. You did well well this year. Thanks for that.