“As far as occupations go, a farmer is outstanding in his field.” — Anonymous.
The change of seasons is upon us. The wind is more brisk with blustery whirls of golden-red, brown, and yellow leaves that lie on the ground like glistening jewels. The tree row is not near as dense and once again I can see my neighbor’s house on the other side of the creek.
The squirrels have filled their cheeks and are scampering about burying their acorns, making little deposits everywhere. I hope their activity is not an indicator of what winter will be like. There have not been any fly-bys from the hummingbirds for a couple of weeks now. So they must be far into their journey South.
We have already had a white mantle of frost across the fields of pumpkins, oats, and corn. The soy beans have mostly been harvested, but there seems to be an increased urgency to get the corn in between the bouts of rain on increasing gray days.
I look forward to the gift of a few more warm days that we may still have. One last chance to ready the roses for winter and clean out the few remaining tomato plants, but mostly to feel the warm air as I sit on my porch or walk among the leaves.
The changing landscape, the change of temperatures, bringing out soft, warm blankets and sweaters, and a cup of warm apple cider are all a nice part of Harvest Time.