Old Maid

I found this charming girl among a group of old photos,

letters, and postcards at a summer yardsale.

Hers is the one I kept to mark my place in my favorite commentary.

You know why I kept her photo, don't you?

An engaging smile in the first frame 

and wistful examination of a bouquet in the next.

Wide eyes, clear skin, and a generous bundle of curls.

And yet, the back doesn't record her name. Not even a turn-of-the-century nickname ...
"Dear Fan"  or  "Lovely Pearl".

How could it be that it says -

  

The other photos were used to personalize a vintage bowling bag. 

Check it out here.

Closing Season

We closed the gardens this weekend, even though there were lots of blooms left to admire.

For the first time, we cleared with a weed whacker instead of by hand.

It was a little shocking to watch the garden fall in such a noisy, violent way ... 

but it sure was efficient! 

After the plant were cut down to about two inches, we raked and spread a layer of compost 

in the open areas. All that topped with a cozy layer of leaf litter and voila'!  

No more gardening until spring.  

I marked a few plants that were new this season, knowing that I will completely forget them 

by spring. A new painted fern transplant, some blue billows cuttings, and a 

hand-me-down peony from my neighbor, split into three sections and named after her.

 The summer chairs are wintering in the shed, the greenhouse is tidy, and the late hydrangea blooms 

have all been gathered. The growing season is over. Now we have plenty of dark hours 

to linger over coffee, light candles, and enjoy the peace of winter. 

SIDE NOTE:

I tried to stay focused on the work this weekend, but beauty was everywhere, in the most unlikely places. The cement birdbath in the flowerbed is currently filled with sweetgum and red maple leaves. Once they sink under the rainwater, their bright colors change to dull browns and depressing grays. I was glad to capture this single leaf point still above the murky water, channeling the afternoon sun.

Something to Hope For

Wouldn't it be nice if this really happened?

I know the more jaded gardeners out there are snickering right now. 

Yes, we all know that plant tags are only plastic bits of high-flying imagination.

You'd probably laugh out loud if you knew I planted another
butterfly bush this fall. 

Go ahead and guffaw. 

But if this happens, I'll be the one laughing!