Summer is drawing to a close, and the dry and tired hills of Southern California wait out August's flat light with muted resignation. Soon will come the winds, then the fires, and then, at last, the cool breath and sweet nights of Autumn. I feel it, the chickens feel it, the garden feels it, even the stately oak trees that have lived here since the the Stone Age feel it. We are all a little chapped, a little exhausted, and ready for a change.
Because this is Year 1 at Suburban Stone Age, we have not yet completed a full turn through the seasons. But I can tell you that Spring is about being crazy, putting things in the ground, flogging the projects, and scrambling to keep up. But you don't mind, because you're so sick of being wet and soggy that any chance to be outside makes you want to kick up your heels and whinny. Summer was a bit of a different story. Summer was about girding up for the harvest, processing, storage, eating, and letting things do their thing. It was very much a watch and wait kind of mood, where the efforts of spring came to fruition and you needed to be prepared to deal with the consequences or else.
I feel Autumn creeping on as I get urges to do things like cleaning and repairs. Baskets need to be mended, supplies stored for winter, the greenhouse tidied up, and coops flood-proofed. And as far as I can tell, Winter will be about execution and preparation. Blankets will be made, lettuce planted, and tomatoes tended in the greenhouse for transplant in the spring.
Living in rhythm with the seasons is not a bad way to go. It feels natural. By the time you're sick of what you've got its time for something new. Nature sure knows best. I look out the window and see a whole new season's set of chores imploring me to come and play. Its time to answer the call.