Six months of clouds, rain, fog, rain, snow, fog, rain, mud, rain, fog, mud, snow, rain....you get the idea.I thought about getting out of bed, finding a flashlight, a coat and some clippers and going outside to clip all the flowers I could find before the frost covered them... one last bouquet before the growing season leaves me with the gray funk of seasonal affective disorder.
Seriously. I thought seriously about getting out of bed to cut flowers in the dark. This is how I think when I am faced with the end of the garden season.
The cosmos that I plant from seed every year are a prolifically blooming border along the driveway.
I have been unable to find any seed to collect for next year because there is a flock of goldfinches that spend every day cleaning out the seed buffet. I am not ready to see these turn to a brown stand of dead flowers.
I am still harvesting my very very late tomatoes. The experimental San Marzanos are just finally getting ripe! Please! No frost yet!I didn't get out of bed in the dark. But I did rush out before breakfast to check on the dahlias.
Yes, they had a light frost but survived to bloom for one more day.
I took no chances and cut all the dahlia blooms for another bouquet.But I live with the anxiety of what tomorrow morning will bring.