Autumn is my favorite season; I love the smells, the light, and the way the landscape opens up as all the verdant colors become earth tones. Ending a season appeals to me as well, and reminds me of my days in the theatre, when we would “strike the show” after all those hours of preparation and performance – a job well done.
The garlic is mulched and most likely putting down roots, and we’re preparing fields for their long rest. We’re gradually moving the chickens from the “eggmobiles” in the pasture to their winter coop in the haybarn. I wonder what they are thinking as one or two of them disappear each night: alien abductions, perhaps? Our practice beef herd (does 3 make a herd?) of freemartins are getting a new shelter which we’re building on an old rock wall and foundation, the only remnants of an a 80 year old granary blown asunder in a 1997 storm.
We still have eggs, purple potatoes and eating garlic for sale, and would love to see them go to good homes. Speaking of which, we also have some older laying hens that we’ll give away – they’ll make some savory soup or give you occasional eggs.