chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

Tag Archives: tomatoes

extreme tomato…

neighbors…

fogYesterday, they were out there, the two of them in their 80s, hunched over the plants that line the south side of their house. His plaid wool shirt a little too big now. Her scarf tied snug under her chin.

They pluck the last of the tomatoes, some still green, some wanly reddish, a few fully ripe, and when the plants are bare of fruit, he shovels them up, tosses them in the wheelbarrow, wheels them off somewhere. And she, bending deep from the waist, scoops soil back into the holes, digging and patting with her wrinkled fingers, repairing the bed for next year’s planting.

Today they’re gone, their house is gone, the trees, the grass, the carefully tended beds, the street between us, gone, in thick, enveloping fog.