Friday, September 20, 2013

Time to harvest what we've sown

Welcome. Tomorrow promises to be an interesting day. It's Minnesota's duck opener, and it's Field Trip day at Three Rivers Park District's Silverwood Park. Tomorrow night is the Harvest Moon. I'm used to Minnesota's tendency to schedule a multitude of things I'd like to do at the same time every May weekend. Now it's starting to happen in the Autumn, too. If we didn't already have other plans, I'd probably be at the Field Trip, although one of these years I need to hunt ducks with the Daughter Person's Significant Other. According to Dennis Anderson in today's Strib, we'd better do it soon before the ducks are all gone. Mr. Anderson isn't very happy at the moment with our Department of Natural Resources.

photo of flock of ducks up high
flock of ducks up high          © harrington

The first, and only, time I've been to Silverwood was a couple of years ago. The Minnesota Chapter of the US Green Building Council held an event there. It's a gorgeous place, and far enough away that I'm almost tempted to move into "The Cities" to be closer. There's a worthwhile piece on the mnartists.org web site about the art in the park. The park's commitment to art programming has developed nicely, it seems, since I was last there and it seemed pretty solid at the time.

photo of pumpkin harvest
pumpkin harvest              © harrington

From now through November is the time we gather the harvest from the field. We can also take time to see what fruits we've produced internally. Both should be celebrated. We can be grateful for both. The local soy bean fields have pretty much all turned yellow. Field corn is mostly tan instead of green, some is even being harvested. I've noticed that it's terribly easy to have seasonal changes going on all around me that I fail to "see." I've also noticed that when that happens, I become less grounded and less happy. Country living provides fewer opportunities to connect with different people but more chances to watch see the natural world respond to changes in temperature, daylight and precipitation. Unless you're a teenager, grounded can be good.

Marge Piercy has a poem, Colors passing through us, that seems to me to be just right for this colorful season. Take a look and see what you think.

Thanks for listening. Come again when you can. Rants, raves and reflections served here daily.