“Shucked” sounds as though it will be a hokey, silly show, but instead it turns out to be a remarkably charming two and a half hours of light musical theater.
In that quiet, contemplative juncture of the year, when the gaudy foliage is past and the snow waits just around the bend, the minimalist remnant of my flower garden will suit me just fine.
An article in the Washington Post sited high Atlantic Ocean temperatures in the 70s and 80s as the reason for the extreme humid conditions this summer.
Onions and potatoes, tomatoes and basil, cucumbers and kale, snap beans and zucchini fill dinner plates and overflow salad plates as the growing season peaks.
I find the garden’s vigor expressed in a diversity of late-season flowers and their pollinators, in underground root crops about ready to harvest, and in the earth itself.
In the hour before sunrise during the last week of September and the first week of October, an additional incentive to prompt our waking up to go outdoors in the early morning is the promise of witnessing the ethereal zodiacal light.
There’s still time to plant more radishes and broadcast seeds of lettuce, spinach and Asian greens in beds where alliums, spring beets and potatoes grew.
