Putting the garden to bed, with remembrance

A gorgeous fall day.  Blue sky and sunshine entice me into the garden

and there I find the beginnings of somnbulence, -

and a cool, crisp breeze that speaks of autumn;

a definite need to deadhead the yellow daisies

and harvest the herbs and the walnuts which have fallen from the

neighbours big nut trees.

The husks of the walnuts suggest deep rich woolen dye

but those days are beyond me now so I content myself with bringing

in the sage, the oregano, the basil and the rosemary,

stripping the leaves to lie on a cookie sheet and dry.

It is time to repot the geraniums and bring them in to brighten the winter kitchen.

and to dig up the bulbs and cut down the huge dahlia to store

 in their winter bed of peat.

The peonies and the vine that entwines itself around the raspberry bushes

when I am not watching - all have donned their fall colours.

But still there are bright yellow daisies here and there and the asters

glow in the sunlight.

Snaking through the garden bed, the Chinese Railway has sent up

lanterns to light the way, and I will pick the remainder of these

for winter decoration in the church, along with some silver dollars..

As I work in the garden, replenishing the bird feeders

and filling the fountain with fresh water

my mind is with my mother, who left us so long ago

on this date.

I love this picture of her with my father, - when they were young

and gay, and  full of romance and my father was recovered from his wounds and

 home from the Great War.

and this one, - towards the end of her life, with the V.O.N. who were so good to her....

and she was so patient and so loved.....

an inspiration to me all my life....

Rest in peace, my darling....