Take heart all ye Southern gardeners. Fall seems to be making an entry, albeit with some 90 degree temperatures still, but there are real signs of this only heretofore imagined autumn. My walk around the neighborhood block reveals a freshness in the air, bright blue cloudless skies, and lengthened shadows. If I time the walk just right, I am also blessed with the high school band tuning up for their Friday night halftime performances. Does anything say fall like football?
Fall has always marked my New Year. Perhaps this is a reflection of all my years of teaching. Time to start the calendar, rev the engines, and make use of the energy level that summer drained away. Of course my garden delights in this possibility too. Time to cut back many past their prime plants and replenish a few spots. I can’t wait to get my hands on the bedding mums -- nothing smells like fall any more than those brightly colored chrysanthemums happily planted among my other fading perennials. I often regret allowing these mums so little time in my garden, yanking them up to plant the pansies as soon as frost seems imminent. I hope they know what delight they bring to me in such a short time.
Listening to the school bus as it stops to pick up the neighborhood children, my mind starts to process the day. No, not with bulletin boards and lesson plans, but thoughts of breakfast on the patio and where to shop for those mums!
No comments:
Post a Comment