Fall means pine needles. Everywhere you look, there is a yellowish-brown carpet of pine needles.
There are pine needles in my love-lies-bleeding. It is kind of funny looking. It can't stand up any more. It is all bent over, heavy from the weight of all those cascading plumes of red.
There are pine needles in all my potted plants on the patio. The harvest has come on strong, and I am putting up food in the freezer constantly. We can't eat it fast enough. There is NOTHING like a fresh tomato off the vine. I am really going to miss my tomatoes when they are done.
We cleaned all of the pine needles off the patio this afternoon. Tomorrow they will be back. I don't like them.
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