An unexpected reprieve from fall’s cold cadence, Andy heated the pool for two extra 80 degree days in mid-October, and I dove into both of them with the honor and reverence due. One doesn’t take such balmy weather for granted this late in the game. As I floated there, feeling the luxurious release from gravity on my ever-aging body, I smelled the lemon-like perfume of the angel’s trumpet. This year it has grown into tree-like glory, rising up and over the canopy frame that long ago shed its summer canvass. Thanks to a benign fall, the plant is still in full bloom, even if most of its leaves have fallen. I will cut it severely back at the first frost, and try to overwinter it again. Some things are worth a little winter pampering, and this fine specimen has provided a summer of beauty and perfume. It’s the least I can do.
As for the rest of the backyard patio, we’ve long ago let it go to proverbial seed. The straggly sweet potato vines have alternately floundered and flourished in these warm fall days. An especially vigorous stalk has trailed itself over two lounge chairs, giving the first indication of a ‘Grey Gardens’ deterioration. We seem always on the cusp of crumbling. There is beauty in such decay, though – I know this to be true.
I’ll make a game attempt at overwintering our banana tree too. That did exceptionally well and deserves a chance to come back next spring. A bit of extra work and care now may return an investment: a jump on next year’s growing season. It’s never too early to plan ahead.
