Thank you Winnie for your support, it means a lot to me, having you here. And everyone else, Welcome! I would like to have an adventure, lets walk down a trail and see what magic we can find, want to? There may be portals between the hedgerows and the corn fields so keep a good eye open. Whichever path we take let's keep nature close by our side and our hearts tuned to the divine, shall we? I have a feeling it's going to be grand. I'll meet you here by the blue door.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
September is so Beautiful
by Trendle Ellwood
Hurricane Ivan mellowed as he came north towards us. He lumbered through the Appalachians and then turned into an autumn Ohio storm, swelling the water ways and washing us clean with rain. Then from the north swished a cool breeze that pushed the rain east, and left us with crystal blue skies.
September charms us with yellow rays of goldenrod filling up forgotten fields, turning what once was green into seas of yellow.
Dancing in these yellow seas sways the temptress, aster. Together they weave a spell of gold and lavender, goldenrod and wild purple aster waltzing.
Sumac stands red and proud against the clear blue sky. Every little hedgerow and by-way is a-glow in the late summer sun. Red, gold, yellow, brown and green reign, as the leaves of every little vine and twig turn splendid.
Jim took our last harvest of honey off the hives yesterday and was up late into the night extracting it from the combs. This whole place smells like honey right now. The sweet aroma wafts around the house from the honey hole, (place of honey extracting). The bees are filling up the hives out back with the fall nectar, which gives off a very strong robust essence. This is the goldenrod honey, rich and dark, which they prepare to sustain them through the winter.
I have been harvesting the bittersweet; the berries on our vines are tight and peach colored and the leaves have not yet turned yellow. I gather them and take them inside to hang, where overnight the berries pop open and greet us the next morning with fire and orange. I tie these in bunches and take them to market. I enjoy working with these radiant berries and passing them on, they are something that is missed. People stop by our stand and ask the name of them, or drop off reminisces of their grandmothers picking it, or lament the demise of it in the wild.
It is a good selling plant and worth the effort as a market plant. I cannot make enough apple pie jam to take to market either. They try it, they buy it, has become our motto. There are still berries and apples to pick and squash to put in the meals with tomatoes. But we know it won’t be long, the season is signing now that it is time to make up our apple and tomato sauce’s for winter and collect the wood close to the hearth. One day soon there will be a full moon coming up on the horizon of a clear cloudless night with a chance of frost in air. We will be out grabbing the last green tomatoes to save for ripening in the house.
But oh how beautiful is every moment of this season now.
I just want to stop and stare while summer says her long goodbye with autumn kissing on her face. It wont be long before the sassafras glows red and gold and like a watercolor paints the sky with flurries of yellow swirls as she throws them all away one windy day.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
Hurricane Ivan mellowed as he came north towards us. He lumbered through the Appalachians and then turned into an autumn Ohio storm, swelling the water ways and washing us clean with rain. Then from the north swished a cool breeze that pushed the rain east, and left us with crystal blue skies.
September charms us with yellow rays of goldenrod filling up forgotten fields, turning what once was green into seas of yellow.
Dancing in these yellow seas sways the temptress, aster. Together they weave a spell of gold and lavender, goldenrod and wild purple aster waltzing.
Sumac stands red and proud against the clear blue sky. Every little hedgerow and by-way is a-glow in the late summer sun. Red, gold, yellow, brown and green reign, as the leaves of every little vine and twig turn splendid.
Jim took our last harvest of honey off the hives yesterday and was up late into the night extracting it from the combs. This whole place smells like honey right now. The sweet aroma wafts around the house from the honey hole, (place of honey extracting). The bees are filling up the hives out back with the fall nectar, which gives off a very strong robust essence. This is the goldenrod honey, rich and dark, which they prepare to sustain them through the winter.
I have been harvesting the bittersweet; the berries on our vines are tight and peach colored and the leaves have not yet turned yellow. I gather them and take them inside to hang, where overnight the berries pop open and greet us the next morning with fire and orange. I tie these in bunches and take them to market. I enjoy working with these radiant berries and passing them on, they are something that is missed. People stop by our stand and ask the name of them, or drop off reminisces of their grandmothers picking it, or lament the demise of it in the wild.
It is a good selling plant and worth the effort as a market plant. I cannot make enough apple pie jam to take to market either. They try it, they buy it, has become our motto. There are still berries and apples to pick and squash to put in the meals with tomatoes. But we know it won’t be long, the season is signing now that it is time to make up our apple and tomato sauce’s for winter and collect the wood close to the hearth. One day soon there will be a full moon coming up on the horizon of a clear cloudless night with a chance of frost in air. We will be out grabbing the last green tomatoes to save for ripening in the house.
But oh how beautiful is every moment of this season now.
I just want to stop and stare while summer says her long goodbye with autumn kissing on her face. It wont be long before the sassafras glows red and gold and like a watercolor paints the sky with flurries of yellow swirls as she throws them all away one windy day.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
Writer On Foot Getting Bread
A publication of the writings of White Feather
A publication of the writings of White Feather
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