Washington DC heartily embraces four seasons, but sometimes two can coincide in one day- especially around the equinoxes. A warm morning suddenly collapses under the weight of an angry eyebrow of dark clouds. In comes a cold front leaving us scurrying to bring the house plants back in doors, but then, a few days later, the temperature can be back up in the sixties.
The forecasters love the cold. They get right on the bandwagon of doom with cheery broadcasts of gloomy warnings: Bundle up, it's going to be cold out there! First frost in the region! Chance of snow flurries ! This week even though the sun seemed sweet and warm in the afternoon, by evening the chill was on; the dark definite. The day ends at 5.
So last night while scrounging around the kitchen for dinner makings, I was happy to find neighbor Murphy's home grown tomato sauce still lingering in the Grey Poupon jar he had used as a bottle. Bedraggled but serviceable basil sprigs were harvested from the windowsill, and kale from the back yard combined into an Italian sort of pizza. The other crust featured roasted peppers from someone's garden in Delaware and leaned Southwest in flavor. Both were wonderful and savory, reminiscent of warm days and nights, but slightly melancholy. Ciao, Bella Basil. Hasta la vista, mis amigos Poblanos. So long, Old Sol. Thanks for bringing my garden to life.
See you next June.
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