The night of the first frost is my least favourite day of the year as a gardener. I have a limited number of old bedsheets that are put to good use, but I’m only able to cover a tiny fraction. The worst is wandering around with sheets and deciding who shall live and who shall die tonight. It is terrible to have such responsibility. The uncovered, heading to the gallows, beg me to live. The covered are whispering, “dead plant walking” to the ones left behind. The temperature is at 5C now and dropping. Some are plants my father bought me in May. And I must let go.
A few flower pictures taken today. I will be posting further on gardening soon.
Spoiler alert: Most in these photos will die.