Autumn Reverie - November, 2008

But I miss you most of all, Tomato, when autumn leaves start to fall!  

Fall is a bittersweet time of year. The bittersweet berry produces brilliant color on a symbiotic vine, reminding us that we are all intertwined and subject to the siren call of changing seasons. In the company of industrious squirrels, we scurry about our gardens, stuffing our mouths with the last fruits of summer. In the kitchen we freeze, can, dehydrate, and pickle everything in sight for the months ahead. It is an ending and a beginning. We move from summer abundance to autumn abundance: school activities, holidays, hunting season (important out this way), bonfires, and the crunch of fallen leaves (Forget the raking!)

There is no scarcity in the autumn landscape. Out here in farmland, a.k.a. “outstate,” or as we prefer, “Greater Minnesota” (Where is Lesser Minnesota?) the combines rev up while other big-farmer toys creep along the roads like giant bugs. Hoards of Asian beetles discover their soybean supply has dried up and wing their way relentlessly into our homes, where the light fixtures are their motels of choice.

But hey, the mosquitoes and ticks disappear as gnats and black flies make their last stand. Temperatures moderate while weather conditions keep us guessing, thus insuring that we get some pre-winter practice in layering our clothing. Cool weather crops flourish – broccoli, cabbage, winter squash, and a myriad of delicious greens. The root crops, honey, and wine grapes have been harvested; sumptuous feasts await our culinary efforts.

My 15-acre homestead in western Minnesota has undergone a transformation this summer. The 600-square-foot farmhouse, which began its life in the late 1800’s as a granary in Watson, MN, has been renovated from top to bottom. On the one hand my carbon footprint has enlarged due to the addition of hot and cold running water, flushing toilet, electric heat, stove and fridge. On the other hand thermal windows, tight new doors, and lots of insulation (both in the house and on my body) will help contain my fossil fuel consumption.

Now that I have Zone Zero under control, I can turn my attention to the rest of the landscape. I look forward to the design process, using the tools that I continue to learn from five years of immersion in the Permaculture way of life.

It has taken me four years to determine that I can make it out here in the country. Now I’m committed to this small piece of the planet, which I will steward to the best of my ability. I love to call out, “Honey, I’m home!” Sometimes the cats glance up from their naps and sleepily blink, “Whatever.” No matter, I’m home.

Happy autumn, everyone!

-- Cheryl