Yesterday we transported the “tropicals” to our friend’s greenhouse in East Hampton. It was a bright sunny day,warmish, so that helped. But still, it’s not a day I relish, sending the plants away to their winter home. They live at the greenhouse seven months of the year, longer than they do with me! Once last winter, late in the season, I went to visit them in their fancy glass home where they are all very well cared for. I’m lucky for the friendship of a master gardener who lets me “board” my plants,but, well, I tend to miss them !
We fit Blanca into the cab of Kat’s red truck, along with one of the nutmeg geraniums (actually a pelargonium if anyone’s checking). I wedged the rest in the flat bed, some laying horizontal, and tied a huge blue tarp over the haul. The two gardenias, the jasmine vine and the passion vine, ten pots all tolled, set for their season of dormancy. Away we drove, tarp flapping like a giant blue flag to where? The Underworld , where Persephone lives half the year.
Our friend sent us home with a bouquet of huge autumn- colored dahlias, deep reds, orange , yellow and paler shades in between. They sit like an ecstatic Van Gogh still life on the coffee table, the solace of flowers! The sun set with extra drama last night, firing up the sky with fuchsia clouds after the golden orb dropped below the horizon. Autumn, the season of flaring out, signaling change. Back in the garage, propped a cutting to dry a bit before potting it up to propagate yet more plants. Already she putting out various new shoots, small tips, yes, but strong ones, heading into the future.
Late Night Bloomer 
This is what I love about the town–wintering tropicals, returning with a bouquet, relishing and appreciating the beauty, the loss, the return…