There's something about the brightness of zinnias in Autumn that makes me pause for a moment. This happens a lot, since I pass by the patch everyday on my morning rounds. Lately they seem to be popping out at me more than usual, like mini fireworks of color trying to launch in vain from their anchored stems. I've decided it's the way the light has shifted with sun's position that makes them appear so vibrant. But I'm no scientist. And I'm usually half awake when I make my morning rounds, so don't trust anything I come up with during these treks. All I know is their burst of color stops me in my tracks on these crisp Fall mornings, and my mind is jolted from it's grogginess as I hone in on their zesty beauty. And the beauty of creation. It's good for my soul. And even though I don't think they hear me when I tell them this, I'm grateful to them for making that happen. Maybe I'll just tell their creator...He's always listening.
I'm drawn to plants with a purpose. I like to grow things that have some sort of uniqueness to them: a great story, an unusual feature, a creative use. So, heirloom vegetables, edible flowers, and herbs make up the bulk of my cottage style garden. I also have a vegetable plot, berry patches, fruit trees, and herb and cutting flower beds. In maintaining all this, I strive to be as organic as possible by using techniques like companion planting, rotating my crops, and composting kitchen scraps and yard clippings. All this comes together to create a cleaner environment for my family, my livestock, and my gardens.