|Can you see it? Happy lettuce and whimpering basil.|
Some plants can handle the unkind words and are unaffected. But, the more delicate ones have stories to tell.
As I was peeking at the sleeping garden babes yesterday, I heard something. Or a few things. It's like being in a school yard after something has happened and you're pretty sure what, but you want to hear the real story.
The tomato plants around the edges of the plastic blanket were shrinking back, shuddering, eyes closed, not speaking, hoping that he had gone away.
The basil took the worst of it; the tallest plants are black and blue -- they took the hit for the smaller ones, underneath. The small ones, polite but trembling, "Excuse me. Hello. We are still here-- is he gone yet?"
All I heard from the squash vines was a small sigh. It's like they took one look at him and fainted dead away. I cut what was left from the vines and brought them up to the shelter of the deck. Hopefully they are salvageable. You'd think the big fall vegetables were made of stronger stuff.
The baby lettuces are happily playing on the playground, oblivious to the carnage around them.
Then there is the chard. The Bad Asses. They are the teenagers, having lasted all summer, leather jackets on, leaning against the wall. "What? Huh? Jack Who? We didn't see nuthin".
All I could do was quietly apologize, assuring them that, yes, he's gone for a little while. But...
He'll be back.