It was a mad day.  Although a balmy 80 degrees by 10 in the morning, nightfall was predicted to bring a hard frost, i.e., the kind that extinguishes plants on contact, especially the more tender summer crop plants.  So I headed out early to bring in the last of the tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplant, basil and squash.  Working methodically through each garden bed, I kept an eye on the clouds rolling in from the north and felt the wind pick up, forewarning of a storm.  Change was literally and very palpably “in the air.”

Made me think of a time when I barely noticed what season we were in, much less the subtle passing of one season into the next.  I worked in an office, 10 to 12 hours each day, commuted another two hours and did little else.  All of a sudden, summer would be here so my commute would be in daylight, then there would be Christmas, when I barely saw the light of day.  Those were my only two markers for the passage of time.

I like life better now that I take full notice of the seasons and the passage of one into the next.  Interestingly, seasonal shifts actually happen not just quarterly but monthly, even weekly.  Focusing on those gradual shifts has a way of slowing things down a bit–and who doesn’t need a little of that?!  Also intriguing is how a seasonal focus brings better alignment between external activity and internal energy and enthusiasm.  As late fall moves into winter, for instance, I notice a quiet slipping in–perfect for cold, indoor days.

Autumn always brings these kinds of musings from me.  Here are two more:

Mary’s Every Year Autumn Musings

Satisfy Your Primordial Harvest Instinct

Now for some pictures:

By day’s end, I had collected a surprisingly large pile of produce.

Although I’m exercising bragging rights, it’s humbly.  I know my poor little collection pales in comparison to a real gardener’s haul.

A motley crew, yes, but still perfect for making dozens of delicious dishes.

Loved the bright orange hips with the last of the season’s roses.