We've had our first frosts and enough rain to drown a rat. All the leaves are coming down and the colors are still achingly beautiful across the meadow. I shot a few photos around the place; John is planting garlic and fava beans for a winter crop and everything looks quite bedraggled but there is beauty in that too so I thought I'd share.
This pepper bush outside the front door has been the most luscious color for weeks now. The peppers are too hot to eat but the color is welcome in the fall and reminds me of my beloved Mexico.
All the leaves are off of the grape vines that are growing wild up through the rhody bushes revealing dozens of clusters of plump, sweet grapes. Despite the frost they still taste good and no doubt could be made into that sweet ice wine that Germany is famous for. I had it once at a tasting and found it to be my favorite.
The blueberry bushes are a flaming red surrounded by gladiolas foliage, iris and cannas. I love the colors and textures of these perennials that have supplied us with flowers all summer. And berries. So much to appreciate. I wish I could share with you the fragrance of the wood chips as they smell in the cool, damp weather. It is a sweet, clean smell that is full of life.
This is what remains of the lemon cucumber crop after the vines and leaves have all rotted away and left the fruit lying on a carpet of purple plum leaves. They will seed this area for years to come.
My favorite squash set out to dry; the wonderful buttercup. It grows in a flattened shape and the flesh is sweet and brilliant orange. We bake it cut into pieces in a glass dish with a bit of water in the bottom. I never butter it or add any condiments. I like to eat it with soup so that I can spoon up a bit of soft squash and then dip my spoon into the soup. It melts across the tongue and supplies your body with life enhancing vitamins. It tastes like pumpkin pie.
Please dont hate us; we still have tomatoes. This is how we make our salsa cruda; with serrano chilis, red onions, Orenco Gold tomatoes and lime juice. Lotsa salt. Corn chips. Negro Modelo.
The scarlet tree behind the meadow across the road. A few weeks ago this meadow was dead and gone, it's so good to see the nice grass returning for the goats that live there.
I stretched 6 canvases yesterday and feel motivated to paint now. The workshop I'll be teaching is only a little more than a week away so that is on my mind.
It will be a good Thanksgiving this year, with much to celebrate. We will have checks and balances again in our government and hopefully a more dignified level of discourse. I also want to send out a word of thanks to each of you who comes here. I believe we are all pieces of the same thing, even when we disagree on how to get things accomplished, and that when we gather together, whether on the net or in a room, that something passes among us that is more than the sum of our parts. We support and encourage each other and sometimes even love each other. I believe in that love.