Autumn in My Dustpan

This time of year in the garden always amounts to a lot of leaf cleanup. Weeks and weeks (and more weeks) of leaf cleanup. 

A carpet of colourful fallen leaves

I have too many leaves. The garden is surrounded by mature trees that dump their loads of foliage each fall. The cover is so thick that it has the potential to smother everything underneath. So I do my best to manage the leaves. I mulch as many as I can, and I leave the shredded remnants to do their work as a warm, nourishing, and protective winter blanket for the garden. The rest, I rake and sweep into bags that will be taken away to be turned into compost.

Fallen leaves have been a topic of discussion among the gardeners I follow on twitter. I saw a post that returned to me as I was doing my own leaf clean up. It was a picture of a dustpan filled with fallen leaves. It was accompanied by the caption "Autumn in a dustpan." I did a quick search to see if anyone had ever written a poem inspired by those words because they struck me as rather poetic. I didn't find any poems, but I did find dozens of high-resolution stock photos to match the words (who knew that the world needed so many dustpan photos? Lol!) This, in turn, inspired my own picture (see below), and a new poem in the form of a pantoum.

Autumn in my Dustpan   

Autumn in my dustpan
The season not yet done
Fallen golds and crimsons
Echo a blazing sun

A garden season nearly done
Fades into dimmer days
Echoes of a blazing sun
Obscured by skies of grey

Faded into dimmer days
Life hindered by the dark
Beneath fall’s slow decay
A soul’s diminished spark

Life hindered by the dark
Leaves rain upon the land
Sweep up fall’s slow decay
Gather autumn in my dust pan

Autumn in my dustpan

Here's to the annual fall cleanup.  I hope yours is going well.

Happy Gardening.

The Promise of a Plum

This is the time of year that cold-weather weary Torontonians turn their attention to cherry blossoms, and for good reason: they are beautiful. I love cherry blossoms too, but lately I've been paying attention to a far less glamorous flowering tree: the plum.

A trio of plum blossoms about to open
fully in my west-end Toronto backyard

Years ago, a neighbour gifted me a small plum tree from his backyard. I planted it without too much thought. It was rather unremarkable for several years. Then, in the spring of 2019, it burst into a white flurry of flowers, and later that summer it produced a bumper crop of tart, purple-skinned plums (Damson, I believe.)

Plum Blossom

The harvest produced enough plums to give away to family and friends; enough to make several plum crisps and cobblers; and, enough to make jars and jars of jam that allowed my family to enjoy the taste of late summer all through the winter.

Just some of the 2019 backyard plum harvest

Pitted plums ready for making jam.
The green colour suggests these were 
still quite tart at the time of harvest.

A jar of home-made plum jam.
It did not last long.

This same plum tree is now flowering once again, and I am beyond excited about what the promise of the harvest holds. That feeling inspired the following poem which takes the form of a pantoum.*

The Promise of a Plum 

The promise of a plum begins

amid April blossoms of pristine white
Swollen buds burst from their skins
on barren branches reaching for sunlight

By virtue of blooms of immaculate white

orchards are aroused by anticipation

On barren branches bathed in sunlight
clingstone fruit waits to manifest temptation

In orchards brimming with expectation
Prickly thorns defend plump indigo yields
Yellow-green flesh embodies temptation
In harvests of tartness in late summer fields

Sharp thorns protect smoky indigo yields
Laden branches carry sweetness purple skinned
In harvests of tartness in gold summer fields
The promise of a plum begins 

Plum Blossom 2021

The plum is not a perfect tree. It has sharp, thorny branches that will draw blood if you are not careful (trust me on this). The tree sends up suckers everywhere that need to be managed ruthlessly. The tree drops a significant amount of fruit which attracts wasps. This tree is higher maintenance than I would prefer, but I accept it because of the payoff in flowers first, and plums later.

Plum blossom 2021

Happy Gardening!

*A pantoum is a type of poem that has its origins in Malaysia. The poem, made up of four-line stanzas, can be any length. The second and fourth lines of each stanza (or slightly variations of these lines, as is the case in my poem) become the first and third lines of the stanza that follows. The first and last line of the pantoum are usually the same.