5:30 am, Portsmouth RI.
Stars glittered overhead and under my feet this morning when I stepped out to get the newspapers. The grass crunched softly as the dog trotted through the yard on her early walk. The still, cold air amplified the tiny rustlings of mice in the dry leaves.
The sun rose an hour or so later, sweeping away the diamond-crusted grass as it did.Not a hard frost by any standards – only down to 36. The impatients and coleus show no damage at all, and they’re the first to go when the nights turn cold.
What it IS is a call to action. “Git’er done, girl! Freeze is comin’, nuthin’ you can do…” Except be ready when it does. The apples are picked, the beds cleaned out, the supports stored away. Garlic left to plant, compost to spread and a few more weeds to pull and the kitchen garden is all ready for winter.