Time to de-construct the garden, pull out the old, make way for new. Divergent feelings, mixed blessings, another cycle done, never to be repeated, at least not quite like the last one. The crops moved through their cycles, some more exuberantly than others, providing a fantastically green backdrop for our yard, a rich view from the windows. But the leaves are tired and dying, everything has a yellowish tint. The last harvest is a little less tasty, the carrots grow twisted and mangled, the squash leaves are mildewy, the last eggplants refuse to change from a dull greenish brown to a shiny purple. The garden fed us (and others) generously, and the freezer is packed full.

The garden gives us time in the sun, and so much joy, but it keeps us close to home much of the summer. I’ll miss the ready-made harvest that we transform into body and soul nourishment, but I’ll enjoy not being beholden to another thing needing tending. Having seasons is a new thing for me, and I’m surprised daily, watching the clouds form and re-form, reading the always wrong weather reports. Sometimes it’s overcast and dark in the backyard, sunny in the front.

It’s a new cycle for me as well, the clothes I choose, the jacket and hats I haven’t worn since spring, the shorts get pushed to the back of the closet, the fireplace and heater get an airing out, a warmer quilt goes on the bed, more cuddling to get warm. I wear my sunglasses more often because the sun, low on the horizon, is exactly at eye level, blinding me to what’s ahead, not allowing me to look too far forward toward what cannot be seen.