Saying goodbye to the garden of 2007

Every year, there is a week or so that makes me melancholy. It is the very crest of the garden, just before frost hits and it is over until next year. It finds me sitting on the lawn, gazing at a particularly beautiful grouping of plants, burning it into my brain to be savored in my memory when everything is covered with snow a few short months (or weeks) from now.

Last year was particularly difficult. It was the first year in quite a while that had allowed me to garden to my heart's content. It is no exaggeration to say that I was dreading the fall last year. I was in gardening Nirvana, and I railed against the shortening days.

This year is not quite as painful. I know that the spring will come, and my perennial pals will return, along with whatever annuals I pick up. Still, there have been late afternoons sitting in the shade, watching the butterflies flitting around the butterfly bushes. More than anything, I will miss the little corner garden that is directly outside of the office window. Many mornings I sit and gaze out upon it, thinking of words to type, getting lost in it. There is a pair of binoculars sitting on the filing cabinet to help pinpoint bugs and flowers that appeared overnight.

Looking out yesterday, it looked like there was a large toad, or maybe a bat pressed against the fencepost. After looking through the trusty binos, the gigantic moth required some more investigation. Close up (which my camera just won't do), he was wooley and grizzled. He didn't move while I looked at him. If at you look at the top picture, you can see him on the post. Pretty big, eh?

The front entrance turned out to be a welcoming sight this year too. It starts in the early spring with come violet Clematis that Mom planted, progresses to Stargazer Lilies and Marshmallow on either side, and then the Moonflowers and Pineapple Sage step up to bat. The Hibiscus has been blooming consistently all summer. Next year we'll get more of that. What a cheerful vision upon arriving home from some errand or trip!

Soon the binoculars will be pressed into service to see more closely the many-colored leaves in the tree line beyond the first field. They will show me the bunnies and groundhogs, the chukars and cardinals, and whatever else wanders across my field of vision out the office window.

Soon too, will be the planning for next year. What worked, what fizzled... what bloomed like fireworks?

Ah well. Farewell garden of 2007. You were a good one.