Fruits of Our Labors

For the last few days I have been “putting up” tomatoes and apples. With many vegetables from the garden I oven roasted a marinara sauce, and with all the apples picked from an abandoned, nearby orchard, I have jarred applesauce and frozen pie filling to bake some most coveted, mouthwatering apple pie at Thanksgiving time.

Oh, the voices that accompanied me yesterday morning in my kitchen. Those of a beloved mother, grandmother, and great grandmothers, hallowed the halls of my mind as I cored and peeled, salted and jarred not only a piece of a harvest but a piece of the past. They will all yet be missed this holiday season and still I will be thankful for those gathered at our banqueting table.

Fall rains have come and greened up parched summer pastures, and we even have a new addition to our herd — a bull, calf was born at dawn on September fifteenth. 

Jet black and pure, you’d think he was a March hare as wild as he has become. He’s got 15 acres of field to romp around in and yet he has to push through all the fences and take naps in the sage brush where I cannot see him.  I have spent much time tromping through the tall grasses looking for him even though his mother doesn’t seem at all concerned that he’s not within her sight! Parenting comes in many forms.

May you celebrate these last warm days of the summer season as these moments swiftly slip into autumn with all of her crisp air and apples still clinging to the branches and turning brighter vermillion shades.

Soon old man winter will sing his song, forced indoors I will also sing mine. Though it may sound more like a lament as the stiff winter winds hem us in on all sides. 

Saddle up, missy! We’ve got a trail to blaze!

Love you.

Diane

Author: dianecwhitlock

|Children's Picture Book Author | Entrepreneur | View all posts by dianecwhitlock