The long hot days of summer are gone.
Morning and evening are chill and dark. Mist shrouds us each morning. The sun comes up in the middle of the day long enough to remind us it is here but a cool wind still blows and jackets are needed. When the sun smiles on us we exit our home to bask in the wilderness we love. Retreating to comfort as the dark and cold return for the night. The garden lies empty and forlorn. I can no longer go pick a pepper or cucumber for dinner. Most of the harvest is bottled. Shelved neat and snug they are a promise of plenty of food over the long winter. We hunker down, grateful for our wood piles and stove. It is a time of turning in, of reflection, of comfort, and healing.