Autumn, Don't Leave.

Before. November 5, 2013, my biggest bonsai at its absolute peak of color. Ahhhh!

This morning, November 12, 2013. Siggghhh.

Autumn, don't leave.

I don't want to put my little beauties in their winter grave.

I knew they wouldn't stay this beautiful. I knew I had to look at them as much as possible before it would all be over. So I did.

And this morning, it was all over.  Ah, but still so graceful, so beautiful.

In the next week or so I'll have to bundle them up and prep them for the winter. This means taking them out of their pots, wrapping their trunks in aluminum foil (the only way I've found to foil bark-eating voles. I think it hurts their fillings.)

I'll dig all the spearmint and goosefoot out of the bonsai pit and I'll heel them carefully in, on their sides. I'll cover the rootballs with soil, water them in and lay a glass shower door over top of the pit.

I'll check them all winter and water them when they dry out. 

I've been doing this for 21 years in this place, and ten years before that for the big trees. 

Something so beautiful doesn't happen overnight.

Autumn, don't leave. 

Bedtime for Bonsai

Here's what's involved in Bedtime for Bonsai. First, you knock them out of their pots.
Then, you wrap the trunks in foil to keep voles from girdling them over the winter.
You load them on the garden cart.
And wash and store their pots inside.
In another session, you've already dug out the bonsai pit, pulling out armloads of spearmint that you've used all summer for mojitos and fruit salads. Spearmint comes back.

The pit yawns like an open grave, which gets a little larger every year.

You tote the wrapped, potless trees down to the pit, which is under the deck, on the west side of the house.
You say a special good-bye to each tree as you layer them into the pit, heeling them in on their sides because they're too tall any more to stand up. You cover their roots with soil.
Chet Baker has kept you company this whole time, running the bunneh route and periodically checking to make sure your back isn't too sore, which it is.
He checks for chiptymunks.

Finally, you straighten up, for the only thing remaining is to water and wash the glass shower doors you'll use to cover them when the weather gets really cold.

And you notice the last rose of summer, blooming bravely against a deadened landscape
and you stop to inhale its fruity apple scent, and remember that that's what gardening and bonsais are all about: stopping to appreciate these wonderful things that we have made. If you just do the chores without sitting down to marvel, you won't have replenished your spirit with what you need to keep doing the chores.