love in falling

If you could see the pile of apples and pears in our floor! And the older cow came home after visiting with her bull for three months, and we're milking the newer cow, and the calf is almost as big as her mothers. The turnips that were seeded on the potato hills after the potato tops had died back have made themselves nicely. We had a great crop of winter squash this year, and also got the hard corn harvested (but not shucked or shelled yet).

I've decided to absolutely embrace this time of year again. As a child and young adult, fall was my favorite season. With age or with children or maybe with a house without central heat, when fall came I just started thinking of winter, and being cold. But winter is really just a different rhythm. Cold and snow and the like really can make everything much harder but then again, there is less to do too. Without a heated house, it is helpful if someone can stay home to keep it warm but then again, sometimes a day alone is a welcome thing for each of us . . . and we can take turns.

So this fall came and it has been beautiful. The color lasted a long time and while perhaps not a vibrant as some year, it was nonetheless wonderful. Today I was just taking note of how many trees were still holding on to their leaves, now various shades of brown from ochre to mahogany to dull. The pines have darkened. The mountains, although they really couldn't be seen today for the mist and low ceiling, have their "bones" visible now -- their ridges and lines, their sharpness and age. When you look through the woods, if there is a clearing on the other side, you can see it now. And to walk now is like being in a riot of noise from the leaves. This rain will make it a little quieter.

We have a fire. Chores have moved an hour earlier. The rhythm and steps of the dance change constantly. The apples and pears move in and out of the dehydrator.

On the practical side, we drive bottom feeder vehicles, a sort of protest of having to drive at all. And recently we've experienced all sorts of problems with them. Recently being since about April. But just take the most recent, last night, an axle going, and today, in the midst of trying to deal with that, a neighbor comes up and gives us 30 hens (he raises roosters, if'n you know what I mean). So right there, you have this abundance. There was abundance in me calling my boss and her saying, I can handle today, it's ok; abundance in the in-laws willingness to pick up the new axle and bring it out here; abundance in a new axle costing so little that we could afford it; abundance in that our family made it home safe and sound after a rare and exceptional night out before that axle went. And perhaps even grace in my husband not entirely forsaking me when all I could do was hold my head in my hands and try to breathe after the axle broke.