The garden is starting to look a bit worn around the edges.
Stalks are drying up, leaves are wrinkling. There are more spent flowers than blooms. We’re harvesting less, happy with a handful of jalapenos when just weeks ago we were bringing in giant colanders full of produce.
It isn’t over yet, but I’m already planning for next year. What to grow more of, what less, what plants to move around to make the garden in my yard look like the garden in my head. But while I’m improving in my mind I’m trying to be sure I pay attention to these final flowers, the breeze coming in the open windows, the sound of insects in the night. It’s too easy to get caught up in my imagination and miss what’s in front of me.