I love fall. It's always been my favorite time of year. As a kid I think it had a lot to do with the new school year--all those new notebooks, pencils and folders held so much promise. As an adult, I've always appreciated the beauty of the changing foliage. When we lived in town we drove to Madison each Sunday to attend church and each week brought a new palette along the Baraboo bluffs. I love the richness of the earth tones. These are the colors that we have chosen to adorn the walls inside our home. They comfort me.
However, my alternate reason for loving this time of the year has to do with my garden. This may come as somewhat of a shock, but toward the end of summer I start to dislike ( I won't go so far as to say 'hate') my garden. There's always so much to do--harvesting, processing, freezing. And the weeds seem to know that your time needs to be spent on these other tasks. So they multiply. Exponentially. This year, weeds took over my garden.
And I admit it--I let them. By this time of year, I am full of mixed emotions--pride over all of the delicious food we grew, shame over the plants I inadvertently killed, joy at the sight of those plants that continue to nourish us and frustration that (once again) I wasn't able to keep up with everything. So (so, so so) many things that I intended to do were never done. Numerous vegetables that went unused. And weeds-everywhere weeds!
But as with all seasons, this one will end...
Taking with it, the bounty that fed us these past months...
And when winter arrives in full, I will be dreaming of springtime dirt...
Clutching a seed catalog in my hands.
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