It was a button up weekend. Summer furniture has been covered with tarp or tucked in the attic space above the garage. The outdoor kitchen is closed. Funny thing about the grill. We always think that we’ll grill until it snows, but we rarely, if ever, do. This year, we’re being realistic and securely covering the grill and lobster cooker before real cold sets in.
November has been unusually mild so far this year. The geraniums that fill the planters by our front door have long since been replaced by mums, but without a freeze, they continue to thrive in their secondary spot by the garage. Roses still bloom by the fence at Bourne Farm. I’m always amazed by the roses. They seem like such delicate flowers, but it’s not unusual for them to linger into November.
A true sign of November, the cranberry bogs near our house are flooded. The pumps have been going strong for the past couple of days, moving water from an adjacent pond. Our guess is that the crew will be out today to harvest this year’s crop. Our particular bogs have been in existence since the 1800’s. Amazing to think that cranberries have been gathered from that very spot since that time.
Our development is is hardly historic, but having the bogs and Bourne Farm a stone’s throw away allows one to picture a time when this part of the Cape was a sleepy village instead of a tourist mecca. Actually, we’re fortunate to be in a quiet corner of our world, even during the height of tourist season.
November on the Cape. Windswept leaves and flooded cranberry bogs. The feeling that it’s time to tuck things away in winter storage, but the roses linger on.