Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Change in the wind

As I looked out yesterday's window, the wind blew through my corner of the world. I thought I could see each leaf not being blown away change colors while I watched. Today I see lots more color in the treetops than there was before yesterday's wind gusted through. Leaves left behind, watercolored and windblown, fill today's window.

white oak leaves in Autumn
white oak leaves in Autumn
Photo by J. Harrington

Last night, in honor of Indigenous People's Day and in our efforts to become more native to our place, we had a dinner of wild rice brats, bison brats, sauteed onions and peppers, plus three sisters (squash, corn, and beans) vegetables. All thanks to my Better Half who saved me a grocery shopping trip by volunteering to get the "makings" before she came home from work. I don't remember ever having the squash/corn/beans combination before and I really liked it. Once again I'm considering trying a three sisters garden next Summer, especially since I'm now really curious to see if Winter squash actually keeps deer away.

sour dough starter crock
sour dough starter crock
Photo by J. Harrington

The cooler weather that blew into town yesterday seems to have reinvigorated my baking streak. Today I re-fed the sour dough starter and mixed a batch of dough for artisan bread One or the other, maybe both, will get baked tomorrow. The smell of home-baked bread filling the house on a crisp Autumn day is probably a fair trade for the smell of burning leaves. I remember my mother baking corn muffins and corn bread to go with soups and chowders. I don't remember home-made bread bread being part of my childhood. I do remember many of the neighbors in Dorchester (one of Boston's neighborhoods) having "kitchen gardens" that took up much of their back yards. But then they didn't have to fend off herds of whitetails and pocket gophers nor swat lots of deer flies and mosquitoes. There are some real advantages to urban agriculture.

Leaves Fell

By Juhan Liiv

Translated from the Estonian by H.L. Hix & Jüri Talvet
Read the translator's notes

A gust roused the waves,
leaves blew into the water,
the waves were ash-gray,
the sky tin-gray,
ash-gray the autumn.

It was good for my heart:
there my feelings were ash-gray,
the sky tin-gray,
ash-gray the autumn.

The breath of wind brought cooler air,
the waves of mourning brought separation:
autumn and autumn
befriend each other.


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