Falling for Autumn



 It is already full dark and not yet 7 o'clock in the evening. Fall is upon us. As much as I lament the loss of summer, there is a sweet anticipation in the Fall, when the leaves turn and crackle underfoot and the air is chill and tainted with smoke. Not quite mittens, but certainly sweater time, and a fine time for brisk walks. hot tea and good company. Today, I took the garden out.

Squash, beans and tomatoes nearly filled my basket. I managed to rescue a couple of ripe Black Krims from bandity raccoons - their greedy paws and sharp teeth snatching the best from the vine (how do they know?). The rest I'll ripen safely indoors, wrapped in newspaper in a cardboard box. The herbs are neatly trimmed and the little space under the stairs looks a bit barren as a few straggling vines cling to the trellis and the tomatoe stakes stand empty.

Yesterday, we attended one of the last outdoor Farmer's Markets for the year. A gloomy, overcast day broke into clear sunshine and blue sky and market-goers lingered, having formed friendships over the summer, sharing recipe ideas and pointing out favourite vendors.

Loaded stalls were filled with summer's harvest. Cranberries and carrots, squash, garlic, celery, potatoes and peppers, cauliflower (*swoon*) and corn. Honey. And mushrooms, those earthy, naked denizens of Fall.  We filled up packsacks and shopping bags and brought a bounty home with us.

I devoted  the afternoon to cranberry sauce making.Thanksgiving is just around the corner - next weekend for those of us in Canada, and Christmas is not just a remote possibility any more.

Tonight I am making fresh Cream of Celery and Autumn Mushroom Soup. Fresh pungent celery and King & Enoki mushrooms. It is simmering on the stove as a type. There is that sweet anticipation, again. Soup. Soon. Yum.

And the other anticipations - what will winter bring? And the pause as the garden slumbers - what will grow there next year?

Autumn is like the rest between the notes in music, so important  in the composition. Fall, it seems, makes me a little philosophical too. How about you?