I don't know who this woman is, but she looks resolute but satisfied, sitting in front of her shed, with the tomatoes ripening on the the window ledge. I imagine that her shelves are filled with jars of fruits and vegetables. she has put up countless jars of jams, jelly preserves, pickles, cinnamon apple rings and pie fillings; and has taken time to enjoy the cool early autumn sunset. Her garden is nearly finished for this year, the cabbages and sprouts will remain for awhile and the sunflowers with their ruff of yellow petals nod gently in the breeze. She watches the sunset, the colors remind her of the quilt top she didn't finish last year, but will be able to work on once the garden is put to bed for the winter. There are also the seed catalogs he put in the bottom of the bread drawer in the Hoosier cupboard, too keep the bread fresh she said but the real reason was so she could look a the illustrations for the flower seeds.
In the morning she would study each illustration and description as she drank he coffee. The pictures she saw of English gardens in a book were like dreams of fairylands to her, and each year she planted cosmos, hollyhocks, balsam and marigolds along the side of the house where she could see them from the kitchen windows.
This year the tomatoes were plentiful, and so were the peppers and red beets, oh, but there was time to think of all of that when a thick blanket of snow covered the garden. Sitting in her rocker mending or working on her quilt, she could think about it then. Winter was always too long, but never long enough to get everything done.