The autumn of things is in their focus inward; saving all the resplendent energies to rest, repair, and then to rebuild (as seasons cycle). The colors of this fading summer woo us with promises of rebirth, sure, but generally, we are on the same path and find that we are much more wooed by the intimacy that winter can bring. We are in New England, after all.
Fires in the woodstove, blankets and sweaters, hand warmers and ear muffs, garlic planting and first frosts, stews and roasts, warm bread and butter, seed catalogs and long epics, family game nights, all set off for us with the baker’s birthday. We can’t celebrate much this year, but the marvelous child made a beautiful cake, and we got tickets to go see Ms. Ezra Furman in Portland (it was a great show!). We got take out (which we only get to do once or twice a year) and played some games together. Life with a teenager is on her terms much of the time, so we’re grateful she still likes to play with us.
As we celebrate Samhain, we lean into the family time, time to talk about our ancestors, about those who came before us, about the cycles of life. The kid likes costume (it’s practically her life, perhaps her calling) and finds the creative aspect of it incredibly inspirational. Last year she was an Arctic Fox (with a tail, paws, ears, a fuzzy lace-up skirt and bodice) and this year the Queen of Hearts made an appearance helping out at the town Trick or Treat (of course, we give out Vit C pops, it’s my concession since I really want to give out raisins).
Fall. How fitting a word for the surrender of summer.
Rock Bottom Homestead 