If you’re not satisfied with enough, you’ll never be satisfied with more. There are a number of variations of this saying by Epicurus. The insight is as meaningful now as when Epicurus said it thousands of years ago.

One potato satisfies me, so when I bring in a basket of potatoes from the garden, I have no problems being equally satisfied. And there is a fat leak as well.

The first frost of the season happened this morning. Each fall, the first frost of the season is as delightful as all the first frosts of years past. They are a sharp reminder that winter is coming. Touch the frosty grass and your fingers sting from the cold. First frost mornings are transformative.

So how many pies can I make out of these pumpkins? Few garden plants are as exuberant as pumpkins. World domination is on their minds as they spread their vines and huge leaves. Seemingly out of nowhere, bright yellow, huge pumpkins appear under their thick leaves.

Yesterday, I noticed that the forest floor had an abundance of mushrooms. Not surprising considering the moist, cool weather we’ve had lately. But as I looked at the variety of mushrooms sprouting everywhere, I had to check under the cedar trees where two falls ago, I found a bounty of shaggy parasol mushrooms. Last year there were none.

But this year, they are back. Lots of them. For a week or two, we’ll feast on them. I may even try drying some. I read that if you dry them and let them age, they taste even better.

September is grape season here, so the chickens are grateful. One variety of grapes has small grapes with big seeds. There are other grapes with larger grapes and no seeds, so these seeded grapes are mostly for the chickens. Toss a basket of grapes and the chickens come running to feast on them.

The clouds this time of year are entertaining. Each day different types of clouds float by. These wispy ones from last week were captivating.

The mornings are brisk these days. Brisk enough to begin coloring the maple tree.

Early this morning, while the dew was still heavy, I found a bumble bee waking up on an artichoke flower, its wings wet with dew. When I find bees who’ve spent the night on a flower, I wonder if they arrived too late to go home the night before, or are they worn out and on their death beds, too worn out to make it home? I guess if I were a bee, I might prefer to rest my weary body on a comforting flower instead of struggling to make it back to the nest.

There’s a sadness to their short lives. I’m sure they don’t feel sad. Buzzing from flower to flower all day long is their joy.

A small spider has made a home on the same artichoke flower. It’s as colorful and dazzling a world as any tropical coral reef, only it’s just a few steps from the front door. It’d be fun living in a home made of soft, blue-purple rods that tower above you and through which you slither through.

Our smokey skies did not linger long. For three days smoke choked the skies until fresh air from the Pacific pushed it away. We are back to August blue skies and filling our lungs with sweet air.

The sun is not like a friend who drops by and lingers, laughing and conversing without any regard for time. The sun is madly punctually, down to the nano second. Though, really, it’s the spinning earth that is refusing to give us any additional summer. It is going to stay on time, spinning around the sun, no matter what.

Summer is slipping away, bit by bit. Already the mornings feel more fall like that summery. This morning it is 47ºF – 8ºC. We’ve had a few very autumny rains, cool and refreshing. It’s no longer light at four in the morning. Dusk falls earlier each day.

It’s time to savor summer’s sweet fruits. Blackberries are coming on strong. Soon the grapes will be ripe, followed by the apples. Then summer will be gone for good.

The one thing good about the sun being so punctual is that we know when the sun will rise and set a thousand years from now. You can’t say that about any friend.