every day is a good day
It’s not unusual to have the first frost during the second week of October. Today the skies were cloudless all day, from before sunrise and even now with the stars filling the night sky.
The first frost is a warning to hurry up and get all the garlic planted, start new compost piles, pick the last of the pears, and start raking the falling leaves, of which there is no end.
How many are able to step out of their kitchen, take a short walk into the woods, and come home with a plate full of fresh shaggy parasol mushrooms for dinner? Not many. How did I get so lucky?
The fall rains have brought a bounty of stinging nettles. Nettle shoots, fresh mushrooms, and homemade miso make for a hearty creamy soup for supper.
The Asian Pears 梨 are big and ripe. They took a few weeks longer than last year to ripen. Next year I will bag them early on the tree so they ripen earlier.
Who eats apples? The question is more like who doesn’t eat apples. The Flickers and Stellar Jays joyfully peck at the apples we haven’t picked. I don‘t mind sharing. There are more apples than we can eat.
What I didn’t expect was to find wasps eating apples. The holes the Flickers and Jays make turn into all you can eat buffets for the wasps, though technically, I can’t call it a buffet. The dictionary says a buffet consists of several dishes and here we have a single dish, apple.
More Shaggy Parasols keep popping out of the forest floor. This is quite the season for them this year. We’re not the only ones eating them. I see spots on the larger ones where forest creatures have been nibbling.
After a first of October with the bluest of skies, the stars are out tonight, satellites and shooting stars among them. The nippy mornings are bringing out the fall colors.
The bees and wasps are having their last meals. In about a month frost will put an end to most of their lives. There is a sadness to fall, a sense of loss at seeing the plants succumb to the coming winter, saying good bye to the song birds, watching the leaves fall. Planting garlic and flower bulbs is comforting. I can imagine their strong shoots bursting out of the soft soil as I bury them.
Each day old Sven is still alive is a good day. I’m sure he thinks that getting old is for the birds too.
This morning I couldn’t resist plucking the Shaggy Parasol from under a cedar in the woods.
It’s a treasure to have such a delicacy pop up on this property. Around it are a number of smaller ones, which should be ready in a few days.
