Apple Sauce in the Crock Pot. Apple Muffins going in the over. Apple Cider ready to mull. Apple Crisp Done. Multiple gourds all over the house. Bulbs planted for spring. Researching colonial squash recipes for the hubbard squash I got today. We did Paul and Sam Mazzas farms, Lang Barn, Chapin Orchard and got cider, cider donuts, apples, fudge etc etc on and on. Today was one of those amazing Vermont days. Color. Life. Gentle breezes. Simplicity. A perfect apple in a perfect orchard on a perfect day. To end it, I am drinking a home brew and quite honestly reading Frost, because sometimes you just need to immerse yourself completely. Is there a more perfect place to be than Vermont in autumn? Out through the fields and the woods And over the walls I have wended; I have climbed the hills of view And looked at the world, and descended; I have come by the highway home, And lo, it is ended. The leaves are all dead on the ground, Save those that the oak is keeping To ravel them one by one And let them go scraping and creeping Out over the crusted snow, When others are sleeping. And the dead leaves lie huddled and still, No longer blown hither and thither; The last lone aster is gone; The flowers of the witch hazel wither; The heart is still aching to seek, But the feet question ‘Whither?’ Ah, when to the heart of man Was it ever less than a treason To go with the drift of things, To yield with a grace to reason, And bow and accept the end Of a love or a season?
Posted on: Sun, 12 Oct 2014 23:42:44 +0000
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