There’s just something about September. The first September days feel like full-blown summer. Humid mornings give way to hot afternoons which roll into long evenings. Then, abruptly, it’s back to school season. That first real change feels like a seasonal transition but it’s really only a shift in routine. A long day at school could still end with a barbecue and a water fight with the hose.
But something sort of magical starts to happen as the calendar creeps towards the autumn equinox. The air gets sharper and crisper in the mornings and evenings. The garden leaves start to yellow even as they offer their last, ripe bounty. Soup starts to sound like a reasonable dinner choice. The leaves begin to suggest their colors, before they really start to show off. It’s a kind of blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-moment.
Nearly every culture around the world has some version of a “Harvest Festival” with unique customs and traditions. Usually the festivities revolve around feasting and giving thanks for the bounty of summer, while preparing for the meagerness and darkness of the winter ahead. Nowadays, the essential necessity of a good harvest is almost obsolete. I don’t spend August and September canning and curing my food and praying it’s enough to see my family through winter. But I like to show some reverence to this time of year. I’m soaking up the last golden sunlight, letting juicy pears and plums drip down my chin, and bidding farewell to the warm embrace of the summer air. Until next year.
Happy Harvest,
Hannah
laretrorecipe.com 