Some cultures look at fall as the start of a new year. The harvest is in, the cellars are full, it’s time to plan for the spring. I try to partake in the joys of this optimism, but. . .though fall should probably be my favorite time of year because it’s the season to which I was born, I inevitably come to view it as a winding down instead of a gearing up.
It’s easier for me to embrace the fall, possibly because it’s the start of the new school year.
Also the start of the Walla Walla Symphony’s new season, Lily, and this year there’s the additional spark of a new music director and conductor! Dina Gilbert took the podium this Tuesday, leading a lively program of Stravinsky’s Firebird, the debut of three new works, and a crowning Scheherazade (Rimsky-Korsakov). You can read more about Dina Gilbert and the exciting new symphony season here: https://wwsymphony.org/dina-gilbert
As energizing and masterful as the concert was, at home we are winding down toward darker, cooler times. I am really missing the long summer hours of daylight, and so is the garden. Every few days I pull up a fallen sunflower, a wilted zucchini bush, an eggplant that didn’t fulfill the promise of the picture on the descriptive tag. The beans are entirely gone; likewise the Chinese cabbage that never did “head up.”
We’ve still got tons of tomatoes, though.
True, 9. The black cherry variety is coming in by the dozens. The sunrise slicing tomatoes aren’t turning gold very quickly now that highs are in the 60s and 70s, so we might end up with windowsills loaded with these. But the Tasmanian Chocolate ones we grew from seed are coming in at last!
Winding down with ripening Tasmanian Chocolate tomatoes. . .
Maybe it’s just due to effective marketing, but I really can taste a hint of chocolate in these. Two varieties of single-serving winter squash continue to grow. These won’t be winding down until the first frost, probably late October or early November. Both spaghetti and butternut, when finished, should weigh 1.5 to 2 pounds:
Winding vines winding down with single-serving butternut squash. . .
. . .and single-serving spaghetti squash.
There are late carrots coming in:
Springing up while winding down: late season carrots, with Nasturtiums that refuse to bloom!
For flowers, nothing I grew from seed was a success! Have you ever heard of Nasturtiums that didn’t bloom?
Are those the ones we grew in cut-off milk cartons when we were in kindergarten?
The very ones, 9. The sunflowers, mostly volunteers, went crazy as always but are looking pretty droopy now. The one rosebush at the edge of the patio is still putting out a gorgeous bloom or two, and the yellow begonia in the patio pot looks better than ever:
The floribunda rose bush, winding down with a final cluster of blooms.
Gearing up instead of winding down: yellow Begonia.
Garden in Limbo. Winding down, but not quite finished. The slow and grudging evolution toward winterizing- -replacement flap for the pet door, covers for the outdoor spigots:
Winterizing on the horizon. Nothing says winding down like a replacement pet door flap and outdoor spigot covers.
Christmas comes in winter! We can look forward to that.
Shhh, 9, not so loud!
You could use the fall productively by planning next year’s garden.
We’ll discuss that when this year’s garden is fully broken down, Lily. My biggest avocation now is keeping my fingers crossed that the weather will hold long enough to get the new deck stained (scheduled October 18-24). Maybe that’s why I’m pulling back harder than ever against fall this year?
Because honestly, my modus operandi is gearing up, NOT winding down.
I think of your column as one of the harvests of the season, the bringing in and bringing together of your experiences, triumphs, challenges, heady moments and letting gos. I’m a retired therapist, now, as well as musician. I have a handful of clients left and the seasonal observations have been prominent in our discussions with a theme of living in harmony with the season. This “harvest of experience” is part of that as well as integrating its wisdom into the winter to guide the rites of spring to come. Great column, you’ve left me with a serious tomato craving!
If we were neighbors, Tom, you would be completely set with tomatoes! Thanks for your thoughts about the blog. I am trying to get the notion that fall is a metaphor for my own aging issues out of my mind and re-frame it as something more palatable!