For the gardeners here at Winterpast, autumn brings a little sadness. It’s time to begin putting the garden away.
As we gather the yard art, some things have finally reached the end of their outdoor life. Desert temperatures are extreme. Between the summer heat, winter cold, and wind, anything that lives outside has to be rather tough. Some of our decorations have weathered it all quite nicely. Others have earned their retirement.
We’re emptying the fountains and moving them into the greenhouse, where they will wait until spring. For the next few months, the garden will have to get along without the sound of running water.
The garden boxes need emptying. We need to sort old tools, discard the worn-out ones, and make a few notes about possible Christmas gifts. A true gardener never has enough tools. We have plenty of dull, rusty, broken ones. Perhaps even enough that make our hands hurt. But enough good tools? Never.
Christmas is coming.
Turning off the garden water at Winterpast isn’t for the timid. It looks like the system has been leaking for quite some time. Next spring, we’ll investigate and make the necessary repairs. The first To-Do on next year’s list.
For now, the garden water is off. We’ve disconnected the hoses from the house. Another familiar part of our gardening routine is finished for the season. Soon, a hard frost will send the last leaves twirling to the ground. Orange, yellow, red, and gold will flutter down, leaving the branches bare.
And then there is the cleanup.
Thankfully, our winds occasionally help. Some of those leaves will blow away, never to be seen again. After all the grumbling HHH does about the wind, I suppose we should give credit where credit is due.
As we work our way through these last chores, there is so much to be thankful for. The blossoms we waited for. The shade we enjoyed. The birds that made themselves at home. The roses and mums that stayed to give us one more show.
Even the messy crabapple has contributed her share of beauty. We have tended this place through another growing season. Now Winterpast is getting ready to rest.
Winter has a quiet beauty all its own. Bare branches after a snowfall. The shapes of trees we hardly notice when they are covered in leaves. A garden that asks a little less of us for a while. There will be plenty to do when spring returns.
For now, we’ll finish the chores, put away the tools, and be grateful for the year we’ve enjoyed.
Goodnight, Sweet Winterpast. Be ready to wake up next spring.