Monday’s Equinox began my favorite of the seasons. The nights are perfect for sleeping with the addition of a blanket. The days are beautiful with a softer light. Most importantly, the gardens have put on their best show and are now ready for some revamping. I love how I have such high hopes for the next year’s beds. Bugs and weeds seem impossible to imagine.

It’s time to get some new plantings into the ground — perennials, shrubs and trees. Most of the nurseries are having sales. Some of the stock looked tired but, trust me, planted now with some good soil and plenty of water and you’ll be pleasantly surprised next spring.

Indulge me! Now is the time for me to repeat my favorite quote: “The true meaning of life is to plant a tree under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”

Before I wax anymore poetic, let me express disdain for the ornamental grass, Miscanthus. For starters, it reseeds everywhere including into patio cracks and is nearly impossible to uproot. If you grab it with an ungloved hand, expect a “paper cut.” Worst of all, it is highly flammable so planting it near the house is probably unwise, especially given our now dry summers.

On the brighter side, I cannot remember more spectacular dahlias. Some of the newer varieties literally have blooms larger than a person’s head. Remember, in order to dig and store properly over the winter, they need to experience a freeze. Therefore, here on the Island some years they can grace the Thanksgiving table.

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that my lettuce had “gone by” and produced flower heads. Lack of time, but with plenty of laziness, I wadded up the heads with their seeds and shoved them into the ground. Because nature is grand and rarely disappoints, there are baby lettuce plants amongst the debris. At the same time, I buried some leek flower heads and sure enough have tons of babies. If only I get them transplanted, perhaps in the greenhouse for some young greens over winter. The Farmers Almanac predicts a snowy one. We’ll see. Long range forecasts are iffy at best.

We spent a couple days this week trying to correct some poorly “heeled in” shrubs and trees. A bobcat had removed them from a planned construction site. We dug some good-sized holes, filled with Vineyard Gardens planting mix and basically prayed over them. If they live it will be a miracle. As I’ve mentioned in the past, I’m a child of Depression-era parents, so I hate to waste anything. I hated their lives to have been in vain. Lucky for me, both son, Reuben, and grandson, Michael, did the heavy work. It pays to be old and whiny.

It’s been some time since I’ve ended this column with a book report. I’m nearly finished with John Fugelsang’s new release Separation of Church and Hate: A Sane Person’s Guild to Taking Back the Bible from Fundamentalists, Fascists, and Flock-Fleecing Frauds. His premise is that so-called Christians have hijacked both the Bible and the Flag.

Mr. Fugelsang is a comedian by trade, so the book is both funny and thought-provoking. He is a son of a Catholic nun and a priest who left the church to marry, but stayed true to their ideas of service.

His preface to the book reads: “I’ve come to view Jesus the way I’ve come to view Elvis. I love the guy, but some of the fan clubs terrify me!”

Bunch of Grapes has it. It only came out two weeks ago.