This year, ahead of the kickoff of annual "snow on patio furniture" season (which the local news anchor is obsessively disturbed by), we had "freak out and cover your garden" Monday. I'm hearing there was a run on tarps at the Home Depot. Me, I didn't go that far. I picked what I could yesterday, and declared gardening season concluded. We had a huge growing season compared to most, but I am content with letting it go. Dinner tonight included a lot of home-grown veggies, and if this snow means I'm nearing the end of zucchini dinners, I accept that. I can move on to frozen broccoli for a few months. Heck, I can do what I did today, and make a meal that is more than 60% fried okra. One dollar buys a frozen bag of it that is just right for me. (Bag says "serves 4." Giggle.)
I took a couple of comparison shots of my flowers in the rock bed that we half-built this year. (I hear professional landscapers are busy bees now, finishing pandemic projects like the one we abandoned in the heat of summer.) The flowers looked wild and lush on Saturday, before the forest fire in Larimer County expanded and covered everything in ash, and the arctic blast rolled in and coated the ash with ice and snow. I can't imagine what will be left by Thursday. Will the flowers bounce back, or turn to green slime? Will we have a regular autumn, with leaves turning pretty colors, or will they just shrivel and fall? I'm curious about these things, but patient. For now I am content to lean against the window sills and enjoy how the snow on the cars glows under the street lights.
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