Twice a season, once very early in the Spring, and again very late in the Fall. Never easy or convenient, we pay penance to circumvent Mother Nature. In the garden we proceed solemnly down the rows, two by two, diaphanous white fabric billowing between our outstretched hands. A slow and deliberate cadence assures the fabric will unroll evenly, and placement of the cocoon-like material must be careful and precise; there is no gain in hurrying at this critical moment. As the filmy blankets waft down onto each leafy row, a rhythmic scraping sound follows: shovel in dirt, dirt tossed onto edge of fabric. And again. And again. Down the rows and back again, sealing cloth to earth.

Row by row, we proceed on faith -- doing the most we can to protect the crops, accepting that it may not be enough.

October 28, 2007 -- hard freeze tonight.


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