Ending

A blustery, cold, dismal autumn day. I ventured out into the back yard to deal with some fall clean-up.

I haven’t been back there too much since school started. What a difference three weeks makes. My naps in the sun out in the lounge chair only weeks ago were hard to recollect. Was it only months ago when I was dropping bean seeds into the freshly-worked up earth, and arranging my beautiful patio pots? This afternoon, my dreamscape was dramatically altered. The watermelon vines were withered and brown. I rescued my baby melons and brought them into the house. The cherry tomato vines were also shrivelled. I gathered the bright red fruits into a bowl and yanked all the dead plants. The bean plants joined the other refuse in the composter. I pulled all the begonias up–the double blossoms that I dead-headed so carefully, first thing every summer morning when I was coming back from the clothesline. We haven’t even had a frost yet. What evil voice whispered to all these beautiful things that it was time to die?

But a few things linger….the carrots with their feathery green tops, the white and blue morning glories that keep their chins up, and the white hydrangeas, whose only response to the cooler weather has been to blush a little.

There’s still a lot left to do–the patio furniture needs to be put away. It does not look too inviting, with the umbrella shivering in the cold wind, and all the chair pads drooping. Remnants of the dead vines and yellow scraps of leaves are scattered through the grass–it looks like a botanical crime scene back there.

Autumn is my favourite season. I love the invigorating cool air, the glorious colours, rambles in apple orchards, and the fields done over in all shades of gold. But autumn, no matter how glorious, is an ending. And today, it seems a sad one.