October 9, 2015

We are in the midst of that very brief window when Autumn is at its glory.  The brilliant maple leaves and changing larch needles, the mist that clings to our valley floor in the early morning, and apples everywhere.  We have two big trees that shade our little creek and as the apples float downstream, they get caught up in the rock waterfalls.  Dappled with snowberries, the creek looks like a giant Halloween bobbing-for-apples bucket.

The gardens are tiring, and I am slowly putting them to bed.  We finally had a frost cold enough to end the squash plants, though we are still harvesting a bucket of tomatoes a day from the greenhouse.  With Jack Frost visiting us here and there, it is time to shovel the sheep and goat manure onto the beds, work it in, and top with some composted leaves.  It is closing time, and every day we manage to do one chore here and there.  There is no grand finale, rather a slow and deliberate winding down.

There are still carrots and beets in the ground, and lettuce and chard to add to dinners.

The cucumber plants were taken out last week, and I’m slowly harvesting the basil for drying.

But there are still flowers…hidden amongst the tangled and yellowed vines, peeking between the tomato leaves, standing tall but heads drooping on hunched shoulders.

nicotania and amaranth still vibrant

a marvel that the delicate foliage of cosmos withstands the biting frost

Our days are still full of making applesauce and processing tomatoes.  Herbs are hung from rafters, drying near the cookstove.  The freezers are bursting with homegrown meat and veggies and fruit.  We are nearly there…almost time to rest for winter.  One last final push and we will slow down our days to ready for darker days.