I just got in from the backyard, and I’ve shut the door firmly behind me. It is October 16, well into the time when summer should be “shutting down”, but judging by the some of the plant activity, revolution is in the air.
This old timer carrot realizes the time has come for him to become a part of my salad. Digging in his heels will only bring him into danger of becoming flash frozen in the dirt. Who wants that?
This elephant ear shows the color splotches he has earned during many blazing hot afternoons on a patio. We expect these signs of character by October. He has fought the good fight. The onions have turned from a foamy, lacy white to an earthy brown.
The burning bush is showing its first red leaves.
But while some backyard citizens are yielding gracefully to the change of season, a younger, less mature set is just starting out in life. They are budding, blossoming, perhaps frolicking in the headiness of youth, as though unaware that cool temperatures and short, dark days are just around the corner.
Naive optimism? Or plain nihilism?
Some expect to produce offspring. Will they have a chance? I wouldn’t want to say.
This gourd has at last appeared. He is an only child. Does he think he can halt the march of nature long enough for him to reach his full growth?
The tomatoes are churning out more blossoms, defying the notion that they should have been turned into mulch by now.
And look at this poor tomatillo, newly raised from seed after my first two attempts failed. It seems he wants to take his chances.
Meanwhile, the four o’clocks are blooming like it is June the sixth.
What can they all be thinking? Have they not seen this old grandma in her nightgown, telling all it is time for a long winter’s nap?
But the youth…. they spurn the voice of experience.
I’m hoping this dissension is not something organized. But when I see the reach of the hummingbird vine, I know that seditious ideas could easily be passed from one young bloom to another.
They look innocent enough, but they would look that way, wouldn’t they?
Well, in case any of them are listening, I do not allow politics in my backyard. Swift action will be taken against any special interest groups which threaten the general ecosystem. I empathize with those who find themselves unready for the march of time, who still have big plans they will not be able to carry out when the weather changes. As an old lady who feels as spry as a cosmos bloom I too must accept that my time here is finite.
My message to any wannabe overthrowers in my backyard is this: No one can stop the fall.
mindfulmagpie 
What is that plant that looks like a tube of lickstick?
Fall always makes me happy and energized. I do worry, though, about garden silliness. I have my first ever butternut squashes growing. Will they make it? And this brisk weather has spurred my bell peppers and wax peppers to unimagined heights of procreation. I have appreciated them many times lately in the kitchen.
It is the beginning of a red bloom of a hummingbird vine, the supposed track of my backyard underground railroad. I’m thinking your butternuts may make it; they are supposed to grow in the fall, right? And the peppers are gathering in my garden like the crows or whatever they were in The Birds.
Oh my goodness, there is so much beauty in your backyard! I am very envious of your gorgeous gourd. I would love to have some afternoons out in the shade with an easel, painting all your treasures.
That’s a great idea! When shall I expect you?
Maybe some of the youth will get into their teens before the first frost gets them. And if they do, I know you will get even more pleasure from your agricultural efforts.
That is the question: whether they can live to be teens. we shall see!
When can I visit your backyard? Seriously, when?
Whenever you come to Memphis! Actually my yard is pretty small and largely taken up by a swimming pool. But I could serve you delicious drinks under the pergola to help mitigate any disappointment you might have at seeing the yard in person!