Tipping toward fall

The world around us is slowing tipping toward fall. Early mornings, like this one, are chilly, although the temperatures will climb into the high 70s later today. The goldenrods paint yellow along the woods edge. Overhead, we hear the first flocks of Canadian geese beginning to gather. Down the road at the Angeltree Alpaca Farm, the alpacas’ coats are thickening, and further on, hay bales dot the field; late in the day, golden and red apples glow like jewels on two old apple trees surrounding the hand-dug, stone foundation of a long-abandoned home.

In our own yard, Richard picked rose hips yesterday from the Rugosa roses at the edge of the planted gardens. Unlike their domesticated hybrid cousins, the “tea roses,” these “species” roses thrive and spread, requiring almost no care beyond digging out those that have spread further than we wish. They also produce large "hips" which are high in Vitamin C. Earlier in the summer, we enjoyed the scented flowers. Now that the weather is cooling off, the hips will make an excellent tea.

The fall-bearing raspberries are ripe, too. I pick a handful of berries each day, up from the one or two berries last year.

We hope for a sizable crop in another year or two, although I worry that the verticillium wilt – an incurable fungal disease that destroyed first the summer raspberries and this year, eliminated most of the wild “black cap” harvest – may get to the fall-bearing raspberries, too. Unfortunately, I ignored the problem for too many years, not knowing why the raspberry canes flourished each spring, only to have the berries remain small and hard, with the new growth dying back by mid-summer. The following spring, the cycle began again; untended, the wilt spread throughout the garden. I’ve learned the value of a good reference book, and now have several that I consult regularly! (See bookshelf for my favorites.) I’ve also learned the importance of prevention in the health of the organic garden. We may have to go for some years without raspberries until we can renew the soil where they were – raising the temperatures by “solarizing” with a cover of clear plastic in mid-summer, and adding enough fresh compost so that beneficial organisms might outcompete those that promote disease. In the meantime, we savor these seemingly “out-of-season” treats.

Finally, there is the promise of what is still to come: the grapes on the still-to-be-finished arbor over the deck are plumping, the cabbages are filling out, and cool-loving herbs like sorrel and sage (rear and front, respectively, in bottom photo) are thriving in the raised bed by the kitchen door. Our “volunteer” pumpkins – which we suspect may be a cross between a pumpkin and a zucchini – are flecked with orange, and we’ve begun digging the potatoes. (More on all of these soon.)