Never say never. I proclaimed the last rose of autumn and suddenly my garden exploded with new flowers late into the season surviving two nor’easters. They did not, however, all survive the rabbits who indulged in a rose petal feast early this morning. I can’t complain. The garden is beautiful even as it fades and ah…comes back and then fades again.
Sometimes we have to say goodbye though. I said farewell and all that to one of my favorite works titled Rabbit, pictured in a new frame chosen to match a lovely new home. This has been a running theme for the past few weeks. I wonder if the “rabbits” are trying to tell me something.
The fiery flowers of pineapple sage, young radishes in a driftwood bed, one last rose before winter, and the sun shed at sunset.
A near perfect day this All Souls. Morning in the garden, afternoon in the cave, and evening by the firelight in the night around a lovingly prepared feast in honor of the ancestors and all loved ones who have passed over. The weather was perfect, cool crisp dry air and not too windy, with a bright almost full moon shining in a clear sky. C.P. McDill worked on the timber wall along our property’s edge. I gathered leaves and spent plants for the compost, planted more garlic and lettuces, took apart the outside plant nursery and moved all the potted thingies within to the sun shed for over wintering. For All Hallow’s Eve, we did a little beneficent mischief and settled by the fire to watch a spooky movie. Alas, no little tricksters made their way to the cottage so C.P. had to eat all the treats.
Gnome and nastursiums…
Potted thingies inside the sun shed.
Lovingly bundled sage waiting to be hung up.
The spiral path is overgrown and bursting with color.
The stone path we are building in the new section of front garden. It was an asphalt drive that we tore up with a pick axe. Hopefully there will be low growing thyme inbetween the stones by next spring and those scrappy looking arborvitae with their little pointy heads chopped off will eventually be an evergreen hedge.
The head mason is my mother who is 70 years old and loves to build walls and paths out of stone. She doesn’t just design and supervise. She does the actual lugging and building. The stone path leads out to the sandy beach road and we’ve left the entrance open. No gate. There is an enclosed fence around the main garden in the back so I’d like to leave the front open if possible. It’s friendlier. We’ll see how well the neighborhood dogs behave.
I’ve also photographed our medicinal plants since it’s harvest time. I’m about to take most of them out of the garden to dry or otherwise store for the winter. Many will last through the fall a few will live through the winter in cold frames. This is my kind of health insurance. Build your own and grow your own. Self sufficiency and simplicity. I learned this from my parents. Hopefully, if I follow this path, I’ll be lugging big rocks around and planting trees when I am 70. Hmm. That didn’t come out quite right but I think you know what I mean. I’d like to keep that option.