Frost on Pentacost

First frost October 1st.I sadly see the Zinnias gorgeous deep red.A warm color, a hot color, did not save it from the after midnight cold. The pumpkin leaves wilt, so did the young kale plants, my 68th Autumn has arrived, and I am apprehensive about time and aging. I do not like feeling this way. I would like to think that I am deep enough to not be bothered by it, but it is the disability since late last winter and all Spring and summer that has left me stunned. Becoming unable to work, which somehow I thought was a gaurentee till I was close to 80, is terrifying. I mistook my willingenss and joy of difficult work as immunity. That willingness and attitude has housed and fed and clothed me for most of my life, there was never anyone willing to do that, instead, I was the provider. I was the one you could depend on for a roof and a meal and warmth. I can see why people my age cash in and either live in one room or something on wheels. I am not bitter, just frightened.

I love my small plot and the dirt that grows dinner and beauty. No one here loves it as I do. And that is one of the loneliest feelings. I was useless to keep the Zinnia going longer than she was able, with the seasons change. Humbling.


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