By the end of September, a tomatillo plant can look as if it has been quietly making decorations while the tomatoes were taking all the attention. The plant sprawls through its cage, lifts yellow flowers in the leaf forks, and hangs little green lanterns from the stems. Some are tight and empty-feeling. Some are papery and swollen. Some have split…
By mid-September, bare soil usually reads as an ending. Summer annuals are thinning. The cucumber vines are tired. Fallen leaves begin collecting in the small pockets where paths meet planting beds. Then, from a place that looked empty yesterday, a lilac flower rises without warning. No leaves come with it. No green fan announces the plant. The flower simply appears…
September fruit has a habit of looking more mysterious after you pick it. A cluster of grapes that seemed almost black on the vine turns blue-gray in the basket. A plum looks as if it has been dusted with flour. Touch either one and your fingertip leaves a dark, glossy mark, as though you have rubbed a small window through…
