I have had a particularly hard time letting go of summer this year and submitting to the possibility of winter. Perhaps my difficulty is rooted in the fact that summer itself seems reluctant to put its hands all the way up in the air in that universal gesture of You’ve-Got-Me. There’s still a spark. Even though we’ve had snow (which we all know = winter), and the dark morning and bitter cold wind made it impossible to get a clear shot of this Astrantia major, the point is, fergoshsakes, the Astrantia is blooming! Come on. It’s most certainly not July anymore but the Kniphofia still refuse to keel over and yesterday Gail rescued a praying mantis, of all things, from the rock wall. It’s December.
(Gail debated about bringing the mantis in. Always looking on the bright side though, she figured that it would die either way, and this way she’d gain a specimen for her collection.)
I give up. I’m following the mantis indoors. The temperatures have taken a wicked nose-dive this morning and we have just about finished outside anyway – the leaves are shredded, the dahlias are out of the ground (and in storage) and the gardens are cut back. We only have to go back out to trim down the whips on the roses but since they’re still blooming, we’ll wait a little longer before doing that. In a way – in lots of ways – I’m glad to go in and stay in. The greenhouse beckons.
Is your garden still showing any signs of a stubborn summer?