Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

waiting by the wooden gate, his old wool flat cap pulled low over his forehead. He carried the heavy canvas basket of iron tools, his boots sinking slightly into the soft, damp earth near the flowerbeds.

“The ground is still workable,” he said, his gravelly voice sounding clear in the cold morning air. “But we have only a few days before the hard freeze continue reading …