<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>I noticed the volunteer in the shady side of the back yard – in a remote section near the compost, surrounded by trees.  Looking more closely, I recognized it as a tomato plant, with a few flowers already.  It looked healthy and was growing well.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>Well, but too late.  It was September. In the San Francisco area, September was one of the warmest months, liberated at last from the summer fog.  But there was not enough runway for this seedling to grow to maturity.  Sadly, it was just too late, the opportunity had been lost.  A late bloomer had no real chance.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>As I walked back toward the sunny side, I stopped in my tracks.  I too was becoming a late bloomer, restricted by time and opportunity.  All the things I knew I would get around to, later, sometime.  All the skills I would acquire, places I would travel to, great deeds I would do: most were not going to happen.  There simply was not enough time.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>I had fooled myself by putting these things off, by telling myself that now was not the time.  Truly, now was not the time either, and would never be.  I no longer had the open ended decisions, the 360 degrees of choice for my next direction, my path ahead.  Most of those trails I could not walk – at least not walk and reach the end.  My time had slipped away.  The autumn of my life was upon me.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>Returning to the raised beds of the garden, I pulled a few more cherry tomatoes off the vines.  At least there would be some zucchini before the summer light began to fade. I would enjoy this offering, and enjoy what I had accomplished: not so much the mishmash of a career, but a good education, a wonderful family, a journal full of experiences.  Enjoy the Fall, before Winter begins to slow me down.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>I haven't built the stairway down the west side of the tiered back yard.  I haven't built the third raised bed.  I'm not done yet!</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>I haven't taken my wife to Italy.  I haven't backpacked to Argentina.  I haven't written the books I've talked about for years.  I have yet to build a legacy.  I'm not done yet!</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->

<!-- wp:paragraph -->
<p>Looking back on the garden, I thought of lettuce, of squashes, of winter crops.  There was no time for tomatoes; but if I began now, in earnest, I could still plant something of sustenance.  I could have food for later in the year, still make the trips and the memories to enjoy later in my life.  Not all, but some, if I begin where even late beginnings start: Now.</p>
<!-- /wp:paragraph -->