to everything there is a season.

********

those who dwell, as scientists or laymen, among the beauties of the earth, 

are never alone. 

~ rachel carson. 

*

the past two mornings, the low temperature was -2C. 

i had been reversing my greenhouse routine, 

building a fire in the woodstove, 

trying to keep alive the remaining jalapeño plants. 

this afternoon, after a leisurely stroll up coyote hill, i decided it was time

to put the greenhouse to sleep for the winter, clipping peppers, pulling plants, 
whispering little prayers as i lay'd my long-fruitful friends on the ground. 

it had been a while since i had walked coyote hill. 

most of the garden harvest was transported back to the house

via tractor. 

this summer was a season of yet-another injury for my bones, 

and it turned into a time for me to learn how to heal, 

to learn how to be gentle with myself. 

it is with melancholy and bittersweetness that this growing season

comes to an end. 

not too long ago i shut the gate on the garden, 

hanging a dreamcatcher to assure only good comes to my garden 

during her season of rest and recovery. 

*

it's a good life. 

******