Today I went to cut back a garden and I couldn't do it. It's a classic problem in October. After frost it is time to pull the annuals and put the gardens to rest (when not digging, planting, or planting bulbs). And then I show up and it still looks like this. It might even be at its very best, at its absolute fullest and most rosy-bronze, with the best lines, sticks and seed heads and still so many flowers. I have to ask myself, 'Would you rather cut this garden back with spitting snow in 30 degrees weather?' If the answer is yes, then I have to leave it for another day- when it probably will be spitting rain and snowing and I will curse my past self.
And this grass- when it starts to bloom with that late afternoon back light illuminating the soft fluffy flowers- I keep thinking it is alive somehow, covered in hundreds of wooly caterpillars. The colors too, it is bronze pink orange, but dusky too, with gray and mauve. I can never capture the way it looks and certainly not the way it makes me feel.