Lost in the Weeds

Joe Pye's blossoms were truly spent, so Sue thought to cut down the plant in preparation for winter. I was ready to proceed but then thought it very early, and most of the leaves were looking good. If the leaves are still nourishing the plant, I would be hesitant to cut the whole thing down.

We compromised, and I decided to just deadhead ole Joe's faded blooms but leave the rest intact for now. As Sue looked down, I was close to being lost in the weeds, which pretty well describes my usual state of being in a more metaphorical sense.  Many people do say Joe Pye Weed although I never think of our wonderful specimen in those terms.

Joe is beside me to my left, closest to you, although it looks like I might
be pruning the lilac bush directly in front of me in the photo.
I had likely just been turning to discard Joe's flowers.

Last evening I went for a stroll after supper. I was dismayed to find that it was already dark by 8:00pm (or should I say by 20 o'clock for the rest of the world?). It had been warm during the day, so I was only wearing shorts and tees, but it was chilly out by evening. The ominous feeling of autumn was in the air. It was not the delightful feeling of a fine fall day, but the impression that coldness and winter were looming.

I did not find the darkness breeziness and chilliness to be at all uplifting, but it was good to stroll, for physiotherapy has helped to reduce the pain in my leg. It's not yet eradicated, but I didn't feel like I was dragging my leg painfully along behind me as has so often been the case in the past year.

Even on my little walks, my head is lost in the metaphorical weeds. I think that if I were to walk all day long, I would see little of my surroundings, for I would be lost in the inner swirling of my introvertish mind. When I walk with Sue, she occasionally brings me out of my reverie by commenting on this and that. She notices much, but I notice little.