More than any other September in memory, this month is lasting an eternity. Each day has been long and full, stretching beyond my usual perception of a day. And this has been a very good thing because we are moving in two weeks. Moving across country, to a new life on a new piece of land. And while this move holds excitement and potential, particularly because the new piece of land is ours, I also feel deep grief at leaving this rented piece of land that we’ve called home for 13 years. The home where I learned to garden, raised animals, got married, got a Master’s degree, had two babies born in this house.
And so I feel the urge to hold on tightly to every single one of these long moments. To burn them in my memory as a record of our last summer in this magical creek-side house.
Our garden, luscious and unruly.
Huge, prolific squash, and a wool-bottomed baby.
Making roasted tomatillo salsa, with a recipe from Coyote Cafe.
Searching for tadpoles in the lake.
Frightening forest creatures at my doorstep!
Seeking the warmth of the greenhouse in the crisp mornings.
Enjoying our sweet goats.
Digging for sandy treasure.
Sharing an equinox campfire and some s’mores with good friends was the perfect way to say goodbye to summer and hello to an autumn of new adventures.