October Magic

In a contest between the most beautiful months of the year, I’d say it comes down to a tie between May and October. Here in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, May is the month of blooms. Maybe it’s not actually a state law, but it seems that everyone and their credit union has a rhododendron. Or an azalea. Or, both--because more blooms, “most better.” Mother Nature is at her greenest, leafy best. The hills are purple, blue and green—the clouds dramatic, the sunbreaks glorious. May is clearly the Most Beautiful Month.

The Season of the Great Pumpkin

Then October rolls around and makes me rethink my belief system. The daylight is waning, but the days are still warm. The nights are a crisp counterpoint, and who could argue with the magnificence of a harvest moon? The leaves catch fire and their colors blaze out the close of summer, the scent of them intoxicating. Every sunny day seems like a bonus, deserving of celebration. 

 

October is the season of Pumpkin Spice Everything—and I’m ok with that. Since my strawbale garden pumpkins took over my back yard, I’ve been looking forward to the day I could go kill harvest them with out fear of retribution. October seems a reasonable time to do that; pumpkin spice bread with cranberries a worthy end.

The end of the tomatoes

Since we have yet to experience a killing frost, my zucchini is still putting out fruit, but not—thank God—as prolifically. My tomatoes haven’t really recovered from the elk attack, but that’s ok—I had planted WAY too many of them and they were producing WAY too well. I am sorry that they ate the little sweet orange tomatoes plant—that one was amazing as bruschetta topping, and I feel the opposite of forgiveness when I recall it. Stupid elk.

Bruschetta goodness.

It’s still too early in the fall season to plant my bulbs, the ground hasn’t sufficiently cooled and I don’t want them to try to grow above ground before next spring. That means I’m free to ignore other garden chores until I can do them all at once. I’m all about efficiency. 

Or avoidance.

Whatever.

 

October Magic

October is flying by. It seems it just got here and already we are running out of month. I have garden chores that need doing: cutting backing, thinning out, relocating. Out in my neck of the woods we’ve had a couple of light frosts but not a killing frost. Yet. My dahlias and begonias are still waiting to either be dug up and stored for the winter—that is my stated objective--or waiting to be mourned in the spring, when I realize that the slimy mass I just poked my trowel in was once a Good Thing. That, sadly, is my modus operandi.

According to my Magic 8 Ball—iPhone calls it a weather app, but honestly, as often as they are wrong I might as well let a Magic 8 Ball do the forecasting. Shane used to say that the only job in which you could be wrong 80% of the time and still expect to stay employed was having a job as a weatherman. Or weatherperson.

Where was I? Oh, right, the weather.

We just survived an intense, rainy interlude but the Magic 8 Ball says “signs point to yes” and the next few days should be sunny. Ish. Sunny-ish. Lots of time to go out and get things done.

I don’t want to brag, but I’ve already rolled up and stored most of my hoses. Actually, I DO want to brag because that’s all I’ve done. With any luck I can avoid all the other chores - argue that I can do them later. Or early next spring. Or, you know, never.

October is also a wonderful time to go for a walk, to head to the beach with friends, to suddenly decide that the garage needs cleaning. Which of these will I do? “Ask again later.”