Tuesday, August 19, 2008


I was up at 5:30. I went to sit on the porch. In the quiet dark half hour before I needed to get ready for work, I was able to breath just slightly unencumbered by thoughts of how I must use the day. These can sometimes be the sweetest minutes of my day. Before I’m caffeinated, before light, a soft drowse like a comforter still around me.
Then there was a thud in the darkness, and another. The apples were dropping in the neighbors orchard. Then the crowing began like every morning. Unseen things began to stir. I knew it was time to get up and go.
The day before I had avoided saying the word “Fall”, even though I watched the wind whip some yellow leaves off the alders out back. But this morning it was not only on my lips but in my body like a thud. Something has changed. Something has tipped. Something went thud. It was Fall’s first footstep into the garden. The ripening is beginning, though we’ve hardly had the heat needed for tomatoes, beans or corn. There will be figs and apples and pears. There are blackberries now and summer squash.
But today rains put off harvesting. Just desk work.
I welcome some hours indoors.