Sunday, October 21, 2007

A Happy Harvest

Despite late season twisters--and I don't just mean dancing to 1950s music--and more warm weather, I have accepted that the summer growing season has come to an end. Saturday, Shortbread played a lament on his bagpipes. Then, we began the finally harvest for 2007. I'll admit to wiping a tear from my eye. What fox does not cry at the sound of "the pipes" and the fall of the garden?

As the autumn leaves flitted in between the tired tomato plants, I stopped to reflect on this year in my bountiful garden: the beautiful blossoms, the bright red plumpness of my tomatoes, the sight of bean plants bending softly to the ground, burden with green....ahhhh. I knew my garden would continue to provide me a rich yield of happy memories even into the long, dark winter months.

But, in the meantime, I had a little problem. Normally, I shake my tomato plants until the orbs plunge gently to the rich dark soil. Sure, a few splatter but I stand assured (in my raincoat to keep dry) that their seeds will put forth another crop of plants next year.

Alas, most of the tomatoes were still green and, try as I might, I could not shake them. Finally, Nutmeg and Shortbread decided they should climb up to fetch what would not come down. We foxes like to stay firmly on the ground so I directed picking from below. (Charles Torte says my grammar is horrible even for a fox.)

Finally, the skywalkers stripped the bushes of the last of their fruit. Or are tomatoes vegetables? And who gets to decide? Was this part of the original naming thing with Adam? Are books written on this? I know not!

What I do know is that my friends and I shall enjoy some lovely stewed tomatoes in a few weeks. Then, I will sit back beside the fire and dream of another year, another summer, more days in the joy of my garden.

Creme Brule

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