Saturday, September 19, 2009

Tonight the labor juices are swirling. I'm going to bed now because someone will call during the night.  My car is packed and ready to go. 

I adore this weather. Wet and fall-ish, the squash plant leaves have turned powdery. There are still blossoms but they won't become fruit, it's too late for that. I went out tonight to find dinner but no luck. I have one sugar pumpkin and one acorn squash. 

Then I remembered the chard, rainbow chard that struggled during our blast furnace heat wave. It too loves this weather so I helped myself to a few leaves. Plus a few more cherry tomatoes. 

I brought in the hammock, a true sign that summer is really over. Not that I lay in it even once. Oh, but the sound of rain on the skylight. Bliss. 


Valerie Loveland said...

Fall is the best. I think it is universally loved by poets. I went to a poetry reading yesterday and every poet who read couldn't stop talking about Fall.

beth coyote said...

it's such a brief season, full of abundance and loss.