Gardening by flashlight

“Gardeners, beware,” the meteorologist on the radio had warned that morning while I was driving to work. “A frost is coming.” I tried to leave a little early, thinking of the last of my tender babies in the garden – an acorn and a couple of butternut squash, maybe a zucchini or two, cherry and regular tomatoes, some kale, some chard and a forest of arugala. But what is usually a one-hour commute from Concord, Mass. to my New Hampshire home can be double that on Friday nights, as leaf-peers and weekenders head north for the White Mountains. Even using the traffic report on my GPS, I got home after 6, as dusk was settling. I ran out and picked the winter squash and searched in vain for the zucchini. Rick came out to help, dropping the few remaining tomatoes into a plastic basket. It was cold, even with our winter coats and hoods on, and it was rapidly getting dark – too dark to see. So we finished our harvesting – almost – by flashlight (a first), laughing in the dark and rubbing our freezing hands together. Eventually, we hoisted two large tarps over the arugula and kale and sent up a little wish that they would survive the night. They did. In the morning, I picked a bunch of kale and literally a shopping bag full of arugula. We had arugula salad and pasta with a tomato, arugula and artichoke heart sauce for dinner. I swear, the meal tasted all the better for the memory of tucking in its ingredients by flashlight the night before.