Yellow Leaves So Soon?
Looking out of the kitchen window, I spy yellow leaves against green. Seems like autumn is pressing in, shooing along what has been a quick, hot summer. However, summer is not letting go without leaving a hot dry reminder of its presence! I watered this morning in hopes of hurrying the rain, which is forecast.
Hasn’t worked yet.
The verbena, however, was grateful; as were the geraniums. But the marigolds; well, they are beyond their last leg. On the other hand, the impatiens is still cheery, and the oxalis that has been so reluctant to bloom, blooms, and has not wilted, even in the past weeks of increasing heat and drought. Nor, have the knockout roses deserted me.
I cultivate my garden, and my garden cultivates me. ~Robert Brault
When I bend low, I see that the pitiful hibiscus has rallied, and blooms! Unfortunately, I accidentally left a silver leaf plant root in the same pot, and it now shades the hibiscus’ reach for the sun. So, I readjusted the pot, positioning it to receive sun more directly.
That I could water in the morning, however, confirms summer is losing her grip.
I have been putting off the watering until after the sun sets. This honed my observation skills. In the dusk, I have to watch my step while wrestling with the hose. The front flowerbed is uneven: several layers of mulch that have not packed down and chipmunk burrows may be the reason.
Watching my step in the sunlight is still wise – also in many other places, too.
One regret I have, as I watered, was beholding the bed on the side of the house; I didn’t plant much there this spring. Its tidy, but barren spaces remind me of how things will look come winter.
However, chrysanthemums are coming into their own!
. . . these autumnal flowers bloom with special vigour and fullness; they don’t make much fuss, one flower is like the other, but how many they are! . . . What is a falling leaf to this rich autumnal display? . . . (Karel Čapek The Gardener’s Year, pages 85-86)
Their expansive colors may camouflage those awkward empty spaces and maybe make the bees happy.
Speaking of bees; the other evening as I was watering, I spied a bee clinging to a sunflower that had lost its pedals. The image seemed a metaphor for the melancholy I feel as summer is descending into autumn, as I see yellow leaves too soon against the green.
Yep – autumn is coming whether summer likes it or not.
There is something deep within us that sobs at endings. Why, God, does everything have to end? Why does all nature grow old? Why do spring and summer have to go? ~ Joe L. Wheeler
Why?! To make way for autumn!
Autumn is really the best of the seasons; and I’m not sure that old age isn’t the best part of life. But of course, like autumn, it doesn’t last. —C.S. Lewis