Season's End

One of the best (and sometimes worst) aspects of living in upstate New York is that we have Seasons. We're not one of those places (I'm looking at you, San Diego), where the weather is more or less the same most of the time, and winter means it is 50 instead of 70. Here, it can be 70 one day and 30 the next, just because it feels like it, and when the seasons change, boy howdy, do you know it.

At least it's not boring :-)

Honestly, I like having seasons. I like the way the different times of year have different energy, and different looks, all of them beautiful in their own way. Although it took becoming a Pagan and learning about the Wheel of the Year, that cycle of ebb and flow that all things follow, before I made my peace with winter. Now, although I still don't enjoy the cold and the snow, I DO love the quiet, more restful energy of the winter, when nature slows down and slumbers, and the pace of life is a little bit slower. (In my case, not until after the holiday rush at the shop, but you know what I mean.) After rushing around all year trying to keep up with the yard and garden, and summer activities, it is nice to sit on the couch with a cat or five, a mug of hot chocolate, and a book.

There are lots of signals that tell me that the summer is over, fall is here, and winter is fast approaching. The wooly bear caterpillars are everywhere, the geese honk overhead as they fly south, and the trees have shown their glorious fall colors and are already beginning to fade.

 Across the street

 Next to the back of the barn

 There's always one show-off.

But for me, I know the season is over when I finish tearing out the garden and putting it to bed for the year. That's what I did last weekend (it was really a process over a couple of weeks, but the last of it was finished this Saturday). My friend Ellen and my step-daughter's mom Jo came over, Jo mostly to supervise and keep the other two of us company, since she'd had dialysis earlier in the day. Ellen and I pulled the rest of the plants out, saving a few green tomatoes to ripen on the counter, and leaving the last bed of spinach and lettuce, which will stay alive until the first snows. Here and there is a batch of kale or parsley. Otherwise, the beds are all empty and covered, waiting for the entire process to begin again in the spring. Next year's garlic is planted, and the fountain and pump have been pulled out of the pond. It seems strangely quiet and peaceful inside the garden fence, reminding me that I too should be starting to slow down a little, and turn inward.

Do you have seasons where you are? If so, do you like them all, or only one or two? Do you try and go with the flow, or simply charge along, no matter what? Happy fall!