I’ll say what most Americans are probably thinking: I just want this whole election to be over. I want to get on with the fun parts of fall. The apples and the sweaters and the foliage and pictures of my friends’ with their baby on her first visit to a pumpkin patch. Stuff that makes me feel good. Like new socks. My dog’s tentative new interest in cuddling.
Every September, I look forward to the baskets of fragrant grape varietals that Klug Farm brings to the Green City Market.
Plums are farmers markets’ harbingers of fall. They come in with the peaches and the berries and go out with the apples and the pears. When plums show up, summer heads out.
“If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper…”
Evelyn Waugh Brideshead Revisited
It’s been awhile since I’ve compiled a list of favorites. This summer has been extra hot and extra humid, and that part of it I won’t miss. But the long days. The sun. The light.
There’s something about baking in the morning in the summer. Something about the quiet. The gentle sunlight. The way that puttering around the kitchen gives me a sense of purposeful ease.