Hard Frosts

 

I love a hard frost in Late October. One day, the cucumber vines are struggling along…maybe one more cucumber? Maybe? And the next—nope. We are done. Move on, people. Summer is over.

This year, we knew the cold snap was coming so we prepared. I went out and harvested the last beans and cucumber (there WAS one more!) in a misty rain early this week. We put up our new heavier curtains over the south windows in the living room to keep drafts off of our necks. We washed and hung the storm windows, making the house winter quiet. Mark walked in two nights ago with the last candy roaster squash in his hands. “I thought I may as well bring it in,” he said. “The vine is dead.” We bought bird seed for the winter. I pulled the extra blankets onto the bed. The cat even decided to come in and sleep on our heads until it was too chilly and she moved under the covers. We even did the laundry and hung it outside to dry because the clouds were gone

Saturday morning, we woke up to a changed world. The sun was brilliant; the sky deep blue. Sheets flapped on the line. It was 47 degrees in the house so we turned on the heat (I try ad hold out until November). All of the summer vines had wilted overnight. We spent the afternoon at Finley, admiring the new green grass and the dying leaves, the egrets and herons, the snakes and wooly bear caterpillars.  Sunday afternoon, I cleared up the garden, getting the beds cleared of fences, hoses, and dying plants so the space is clear for the coming leaf drop.

When the clouds break and we can see the full moon tangling in the branches of our trees, we remember just how far north we are—beyond Calais Maine! Halfway between the North Pole and the equator! – and how short the days will soon be. We reach towards the sun, knowing the clouds and rain will be back. But, right now, the world is clear and bright.