I am putting the garden to bed today, perhaps a fitting activity for me after all the funerals. The garden goes to sleep with always the promise of Spring and its rejuvenation. The trees are the color of drowsy--some are totally bare, others hang onto their leaves until the last dribble of fall has passed.
I enjoy the work--winding away hoses, storing cloches and watering cans. At the end of the season, the garden has been such work that it is a relief to have a break. I know that in the Spring, I will be out again with enthusiasm and excitement, awaiting yet another garden that is my best ever.