The tender annuals are dead--basil, tomatoes, morning glories, and marigolds.
But other annuals still live--alyssum, petunias, nicotiana.
I read the obituaries every day, and note when people my age (or younger) have died. It feels like a mystery. Even though i don't know them, i feel my cohort--the group i was born with--is disappearing. The tenderest annuals have died.
With foresight, i can see that death is coming to me as well. I was at a workshop on Friday, and the presenter asked, "Who here is going to die?" About 10% of the people raised their hands.
We really don't think (or don't want to think) that WE are going to die. Those other people, but not me.
I'm going out to the garden now to pull out the dead and take them to their compost pile grave.