Losing Air

October 22, 2010

There was frost out on the pumpkin, metaphorically, this morning. The grass on the east side of the housed was encased in rime, frost covered the leaves in the vegetable garden. As the sun rose higher, that moisture sparkled and shone of the leaves covering the lawn. For once, I was grateful for sticker plants, as the ice picked out the edges of each sharp edge, creating almost a mistletoe effect.

Everything was flat, like a deflated balloon. The impatiens simply melted, the hostas disappeared, the foxglove lay like a flounder on the soil. Some basil leaves are frozen deep green and look like they won’t recover. The beans are overlaid with a luminescent glaze. Some of the sedum looks almost bleached.

I made photographs of the leaves and the blades of grass, my moccasins getting wetter and colder. I am confused as to where this humidity is coming from – there is still no rain.

The smallest pumpkin seems to have grown legs; it is no longer near the other two, but by the front door. Maybe it was indeed frosted last night and huddled against the brick for warmth. Or perhaps it spent the better part of the evening trying to jump and ring the doorbell, to ask to come in. I move it back where it belongs.

A few days ago, Dominic mowed the front lawn to gather up the leaves. That chopped up garden gold was supposed to be dumped along the fence to build those beds for next year, but apparently he missed that memo and it went into the yard waste bin. Days later now, the clean neat line on the lawn is still evident. There has been no rain, no wind, to disturb it. Kind of like the astronauts’ footprints on the moon – still there decades later, untouched by the elements. And the neighbors haven’t raked or mowed. SIGH….

Now that everything has deflated, I see my “dead bunny” statue that’s been hidden all summer long by overwhelming Joe Pye weed. I giggle.

On my quest for StufIt copper mesh without shipping fees, I contact Trapper Nick, here in town. I’m hoping he can provide the copper mesh. I ask for what I want and he asks what I’m trying to do. “Bait box,” he says. “You gotta get rid of them.” I tell him no, that I just want to keep them out of my compost. “Hardware cloth,” Nick says. He is not a man to waste words. “Wrap the bin in it.” He explains that they can’t get through the 1/4″ holes and that will work. He also recommends, again, a trap to eliminate them. I explain that no, they’re living outside where they belong.

He tells me the same thing my mom did. “You better hope they stay there.”

garlic chives


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