“ ‘Tis the Last Rose”

Three inches of heavy wet snow fell on My Little Farm in Town. I was staggering around the yard first thing this morning harvesting kohlrabi, setting up bird feeders, emptying rain barrels, putting away lawn ornaments, tarping the chicken yard, covering cold frames, and storing rakes, brooms, garden forks, and watering cans. There’s nothing like some freezing weather to make you finally take care of business. All the little jobs put off during a long, mild autumn.

The most momentous thing I did today is pick the last rose of the year. Here it is shortly after I brought it into the house.

‘Tis the last rose of summer

Left blooming alone

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone.

“ ’Tis the last Rose,” Irish Melodies

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