Sunday, August 22, 2021

Standard shift

Even though the peaches aren't quite ripe enough to pick, today no longer feels like summer. It's not even a matter of temperature, it's something about this afternoon's light. Maybe it's the angle of the sunlight dappling the boards of the deck -- whatever the cause, it makes me realize that autumn's on its way.  

The blackberries are thick on the vines, and we're still getting a few raspberries for our desserts. The plums down at Lee Street, where we're always encouraged to pick, are just about ready too. Another year with a bounteous supply of fruits. 

I suppose this overabundance may well mean a harsher than usual winter. We'll wait and see about that. 

For now, I'm heading back to the kitchen. Jars are sterilized and shiny, ready for me to make another batch of jam. 

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