I think the fall colors are lackluster this year. It is very much like our Spring and Summer seasons - so many mixed messages from our weather systems.
Meanwhile we try to soldier on with our best intentions but it is truly remarkable how all is so complex these days - no easy answers seem to pop forth. Just when you think you have recycled everything (still not sure where my floss strings should be) and remembering to bring your own sacks and baskets to the market, you find yourself tearing off another plastic sack for the succulent carrots or the juice-spilling-out-of-them tomatoes.
I tried this year to use old flour sack towels like my mother used in her icebox, but in the rush of the days I forgot to sprinkle them daily with water. The carrots and lettuce soon went limp. I need to practice more.
And global warming is real. How can we sprint to the point where we reverse its course? I know every little thoughtful bit does help in the long run as our awareness increases and the odds for success improve. However, we all have days when it is so tempting to just throw all these new concerns to the wind, get in the car and go for a long drive into the countryside. What carbon footprint?
Similarly, as worn down as we are with the "mid-term" elections this year, this is not the time to throw your vote to the wind. Yes, some will say it is just too complicated and all the politicians are the same and my one little vote doesn't count. However, it has been shown that winners have won with less than a 200-vote margin! I would just say, unequivocally, that your vote does count.
At this time, do I know how I will mark my ballot? NO. But I have started the process of conferring with my friends - those who know so very much more than I do and who have the knowledge and expertise to understand the realities of the measures we are asked to vote upon. I may not agree with all of their arguments/reasonings/thoughtfulness, but I do respect and honor our shared dialogues.
In the garden we need to nurture our sense of place. In these low-lit days we need to wonder why we make our gardens - and remember those special times when we planted and schemed and designed with such enthusiasm. The garden does nurture us in such powerful ways. As they say 'my plate was too full today' but with the beautiful sunbreaks in the afternoon, I was fortunate to be able to take the time to just simply be in my garden. It gave back so much to me.
I weeded and clipped and mused and the hours sped past. I did not write this column (GUILT) and I did not go to the kitchen and cook/transform all the wilting vegetables from last week's CSA box. I stayed in and with the garden. What a fine pleasure on a brilliantly lit Sunday afternoon.[[In-content Ad]]
