We finally had a killing frost Sunday night when temperatures dropped to 29 F and took out our garden.

Except where it didn’t.  Plants in sheltered areas near walls or items that held heat (paving stones, sidewalks) are doing fine.  So, although most of our yard has shifted to the autumn/winter default of brown and grey, we have some brilliant flowers bravely carrying on.

Among these are the mixed zinnias featured in the photo above.  I cut these a couple of days before the frost, and they’ll hold up inside for the next several days.  We also have lovely flowers on our mini “rescue roses.”  These are roses of uncertain lineage, rescued from the grocery store discount bins after holidays like Mother’s Day.

I really enjoy microclimates.  Since I’ve been in this location since December of 1995, I’ve learned how to take advantage of them.  Of course, every year something changes.  A limb coming off a tree in a neighbor’s yard can change a formerly friendly area into a scorching full sun.  Or a shrub growing full enough to provide shade can create a haven where none had been before.  Or our success at convincing Virginia creeper to grow over where our neighbors put in a cinderblock wall has moderated the heat it holds so everything doesn’t bake there in the summer but, when the leaves fall off in the winter, there is climate moderating warmth.

Next up on my gardening list will be writing up a recommended planting guide for next year.  We’ll do some yard clean up, but we’ll be leaving a lot of the native plants in place to provide wintering over shelter for the toads and bees and other creatures that share our little bit of urban wilderness with us.

Writing, for me, is also a microclimate sort of thing.  Some ideas belong in the short story zone; others in the standalone novel zone; others grow in areas where—like my zinnias—they scatter seeds and spread into the next year’s crop.  Off to turn over my creative soil and see what wants to grow where!