Great. Now I have guilt. I went out to hack away at more of the vines that were overtaking our back patio columns. I tore up the last of the tangled pile I left after my first stab at this, and got it pulled away from the column. I took aim at the second tower of vines, deciding that I would rip out the Virginia creeper first. It was turning shades of yellow and red, obviously starting to die off. As I pulled big (and I mean BIG) vines, I found tons of dark blue berries all over it, and I wondered whether I ever knew before that this stuff sets fruit at the end of the season. I have no plans to attempt to eat any of those berries, but I'm sure some small creature or another would have appreciated having them this winter. And then, when I had most of it out, I looked up, and saw what I had uncovered. There was a bird's nest at the top of the column, where it had been tucked away inside all those crunchy vines. It would have been nice and warm, protected from precipitation by the roof overhang, safe from the wind with all the tangled growth, and it would have had plenty of berries to nibble on to keep a bird or two alive all winter. And I ruined it. I have been miserable since I realized I might have chased a small animal away from safety and survival. I came inside, guilt weighing down my shoulders, and I told the Mr, "I am a monster."
They took away our chances of snow this week. It had been predicted that we'd have a wintry mix on Thursday, and now they say it will just be cold rain. Even so, I went ahead and harvested most of my green tomatoes. I can't even guess whether any of them will ripen enough to use, but I have a big mixing bowl full to watch and hope to eat. I have a few more plants out back to try to save, but the fruit and vegetables are done for the year. Once we have the next section of shelves up, I'll bring in the plumbago, bee balm, and nandina that I brought from the original Park. And then somewhere I have to find the energy to go dig trenches to set bulbs before the ground freezes. We only bought a few bags of bulbs, a fraction of our normal decoration. There will be plenty of hyacinths next year, a handful of tulips, and the beginnings of a mound of daffodils. (King Alfred daffodils, natch.) Maybe next year we will finally get some Long's Gardens irises, something I've wanted for probably twenty-five years. I can't get them until May, but that's okay. I'm already a little tired of digging and cutting. It's time to move inside for the season.
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