At the time that I write this, it is past the nine o’clock evening hour. A hard frost has been forecast for tomorrow (today as you’re reading this), and after a day of Andy and I sneezing from allergies, I hope it takes out everything in its path. It’s time. The day hinted at colder things to come, as Andy came in chilled from a final attempt at salvaging one more pool day if it warms up next week. I captured a few final blossoms as seen here, already slightly mottled from the cool nights, and likely to be gone by tomorrow. You may be witnessing what has already departed. Ghostly apparitions befitting the season.
A rare moment bordering on regret, perhaps? I wonder if I should have spent more time with these begonias. They did pretty well in a season that found usual stalwarts struggling. Hidden by a pink curtain and located behind showier and taller pots of papyrus and elephant’s ear, these begonias were paired with a red fuchsia – and both performed admirably when I thought to take in their beauty. I wish I’d thought more.
