Marigolds

I moved at least 200 flats of marigolds today.  At first it was frustrating; the vague air of pointlessness surrounding the assignment put me off immediately. Then my love for putting things in order took over entirely.  The sense of tidiness was what I liked best about working in the library, and I was the strange little kid who, when she couldn't sleep, would clean her room. "Tidy" is a strong instinct for me.  I made the rows as neat as I could out there on the gravel and sorted everything by variety, though they had not been so initially.  It was rather soothing.    

It is difficult, looking at everything we have left, to remember how much we've actually sold this season.  Thousands of lovely little plants that we fed and watered and cleaned have gone home with people.  People who will, I hope, stick them in their yards or window boxes and appreciate them.   

Despite all the complaining I have done about this job, I'm rather sad that the season is done for me. Spending that much time in the fresh air helping things grow felt good...well, when I wasn't sopping wet or covered in fertilizer, aphids and sunburns. Hmmm, perhaps I won't miss this job after all.