Well, I guess the growing season is over. When we woke up this morning, there was ice on the fishpond and the castor bean plant that towers over it looked pretty sad: its leaves hanging like rags from drooping stems. It was pretty cold last night, cold enough for the leaves to crunch underfoot, cold enough for all things to be white with frost.
Mentally, of course, I haven’t quite embraced the new season. I need to do a review of the veg garden to see what will work better for us next year. The short answer is This was the Year of Beans. (My first year was the Year of Crucifers.) Next year? Who knows. I always seem to run out of onions, potatoes and carrots, so maybe it will be a year of underground surprises.