Autumn has splashed her trees with a generous wash of yellows, from soft lemon to a more golden hue. Hints of red are stealing away the green of Maple leaves. A certain air of completion seeps through these waning summer days as calendar pages drop away, each number drawing us deeper into longer cooler nights.
Clam bakes and Barbeques, fall festivals, brightly colored chrysanthemums, pumpkins and gourds, apple cider and the aromas of home canning harvested fruits and vegetables are sure signs we are once again in seasonal transition.
As the days become shorter, and my gait sleepier, I remember the wonderful sweet smell of grape jelly simmering on the back burner in my mother’s kitchen. I often think of a big pot of freshly pulled up beets from my dad’s garden, boiling on the stove, and as they became tender, my mother handing each of us one on a fork with a little salt sprinkled over the top.
Summer’s bounty included pears from our two trees and plums from our maternal grandparents yard which my mother canned year after year until we moved.