still bubbling hot in their jars, cool on the a checkered dishtowel.
The red is a sight to excite the eyes in the hot dragging days of late summer.
I love canning.
It gives a sense of accomplishment––lifting the jars from the boiling water and setting them to cool. I know they will make good meals in the winter ahead.
They will be labeled and sit in the pantry shelves waiting for a soup recipe or a spaghetti sauce I want to make.
They will still taste of summer and garden and long sunny happy days even in February when I am weary of winter.
So today, I peel tomatoes and load them into jars with a slurp and a few drips (and a half teaspoon of salt). Come winter, they will be waiting––and so good!
Today the wind is blowing and the wind chimes clang so loud their music has turned into racket. I may have to go take them down and lay them across the porch swing seat for a day or two. The wind is gusty and it is the kind that comes from the south in the morning, then seems to come from the east, later from the north, and then brings cold from the northwest.
So begins a new season––our autumn is coming to us. Our summer has overstepped it’s boundaries and the themometer on the porch reads eighty degrees even today. Tomorrow is forecast sunny with a high of seventy.
Change of season, like all change, seems to come suddenly even when behind schedule, even when past due. We expect it and watch for it, dread it and then long for it. Finally––we open hearts to it and hug it to us joyfully.
I walked out among the peacn trees this morning and saw it is nearly time for the shucks to dry and begin splitting. Soon the ground will be littered with pecans and we’ll be filling buckets and baskets with the treasure. Our mama cows are delivering three new calves to us this fall. Autumn comes and always makes us feel rich indeed.