THE END OF A SEASON
It always make me a little sad to pick the last tomatoes and to see the vines wither and turn brown. And I really hate it when I have to buy tomatoes at the supermarket, as they don’t taste anything like the sweet ones from my garden. But there it is, the end of a season, and I remind myself that these wonderful fruits (which most of us think of as a vegetable) have sat through hot summer afternoons and warm nights. I’ve fussed over them, and have watered them and have watched with excitement as the hard green tomatoes turned red.
If you’re anything like me, you resist change, while simultaneously being energized by it. So in a few weeks when I put my garden to bed for the winter, when the frost kills the last marigolds and hardy carrots, when color is erased, I have to remind myself to look closely elsewhere. Just today, for example, I noticed that the marsh grasses surrounding the nearby cove, have turned an incredible burnt orange–a color so striking against the green of other plants. And the berries on a bush I pass everyday walking my dogs are now a silvery blue.
As Keats wrote in his wonderful “Ode to Autumn”: “Where are the songs of Spring? Ay where are they?/Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–” I hope you find ways to enjoy this time of change and discover simple observations that warm your spirits as the days get shorter. We need each season to end. Just as we need to welcome a new one.