Oh well, one of the tomatoes fell and is now feeding the birds and squirrels of the neighborhood.
THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary,
It rains, and the wind is never weary.
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining,
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow