Jack Comes Calling

 

by Pa Rock

Farmer in Fall

I have been told on multiple occasions by a varied assortment of individuals that I "don't know jack."  That, of course, is a hurtful lie.  I know several Jacks, and one of them paid me a visit early this morning, just before daylight, tiptoeing around the yard and brushing each of the plants with their first real touch of winter.

I speak of course of Mr. Jack Frost, that heartless fellow who officially brings an end to the greenery and blooms of spring and summer.   Jack reached out and touched all of the beautiful potted plants that I worked so hard to maintain all summer and who survived the awful drought through my constant attentions - and now, as the sunlight touches those same plants with the first rays of the day, I am watching them die in real time.

Alexa has been saying for the past several days that there would be a frost in the early morning hours of Tuesday, and she was right.  It wasn't a hard frost, but still it was a frost and it has killed the begonias, coleuses, marigolds, and even the sweet potatoes.  The roses, however, still look good, so maybe it will take more than a light frost to put them to sleep for the winter - and the young trees - oak, fig, and dogwood - also appear to be fine - so far.

But the plants in the containers are kaput.  Sometime later this week they will all be carted out of sight, and the hanging planters will be replaced with bird feeders.

Life goes on at The Roost, in one form or another, year after year - and each year I promise myself that I will take it easier and do less in the following year, but I never do.  One of these days Jack is going to reach out ant touch me, too.