This afternoon I finished putting the last of my clients' gardens to bed for the season. It finally feels like November in NYC; I hurried to beat the rain that never came.
Everyone is neatly cut back, well mulched, decked out with evergreen boughs and in some instances berries and gourds.
Perhaps it was the knowledge that my season is done that made me wax sentimental (and sigh with relief), but as I walked home through the park I saw foliage colors and juxtapositions of needles and leaves that put my work to shame.
It's all around us. At least till the first winter wind blows it away.
Happy Thanksgiving, city gardeners.