"We need the tonic of wildness. . .
We can never have enough of nature."
--Henry David Thoreau, Walden
Sweater weather has finally arrived in middle Tennessee, bringing dazzling golden light and crisp evening air. In the past, we've seen colorless autumns, but this year, the farm is ringed with blazing trees. Of all the seasons, fall reminds me that old age isn't necessarily old: it's a rite of passage, one that is a bit wiser than early spring--and tougher. The bronzed colors suggest a richness of spirit, a culmination of everything we have learned along the way.
As I trudge outside, leaves crunch beneath my boots. The garden is almost closed for business except for ivy and defiant, durable weeds. The flower beds still yield surprises, like the gourds and pumpkins that sprang up in the lavender. Cold, brittle days are coming, but today, I'm playing outside.
Won't you come with me?
Let's grab a basket--I keep them near the front door--and see what we can find in the yard.
The oak leaf hydrangeas were nipped by the cold...yet the grass is still as green as it can be.
For the centerpiece, I mixed grocery store flowers with weeds and vines. I put them in a cup, and the cup went into a large lantern. To anchor the cup, I added grapes and berries.
I looped weeds and ivy around baskets that we found at Publix.
Little details: an old feather garland, a twig basket, and a tartan blanket.
According to the weather report, a Polar Blast is on the way, and the garden will hunker down for a long, long rest. Then a whole new rite of passage will begin.
But now, on this sunny afternoon, I'm drinking up the last bit of autumn.
I meant to tell you more about a Thanksgiving Fruit Platter that I shared at Foodie Friday. Figural food can be time-consuming, but this "turkey" is a breeze, requiring no instructions--and the variations are endless. This is a great project for children and grown up kids.
Tip: dab honey on the grapes to keep them from rolling .
Shared at Say G'Day with Natasha in Oz and Metamorphosis Monday