It was a crazy, beautiful summer for most of us.  A summer filled with sunshine (lots of rain), pole beans, tomatoes, and playing. Jim and I spent a good amount of time managing the garden (thank you to Wayne Surber for his amazing talents in helping us to create a 100% organic garden…including major research on wood treatments for raised beds…we’ll get to that soon).

I visited the garden today and it was in need of some care.  I was at first shocked, concern is an understatement as I made my way to the beds with my “garden” bowl and snipping shears.  It seemed as if it was in shambles.  The tomatoes were heavy on the vine, the pole beans were screaming at the very top of the vine but seemed to be withering from the bottom up in sad shapes and phrases.  The tarragon was a burst of “yes I can” as it crept over the bed and revealed a few tarnished tips.

I realized quickly that we hadn’t done anything wrong.  It was the end of the summer.  I picked the tomatoes and carefully snipped the tarragon as if I was brushing the head of a sweet, 100 year old woman who had that glowing smile as she knew the end of one life and the entry into another was imminent.  The transitional phase that renders all creatures, flora and fauna something magnificent shortly before passing on.  Autumn, the release of the brilliant colors.

I brought everything into the house and continued with my late harvest corn chowder (thank you Lou for your corn), finished with the tarragon, and sat for a moment of reflection.  This season has passed as we are preparing for roots and Halloween lights, but the careful treatment of our soils must remain to ensure the bounty for next year.  One season passes and another is born.   Tonight we celebrate the sprouting of our son’s first tooth.


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