seasons

I do not think it was intentional, but it happened that my daughters were married on the cusps of new seasons -- my younger girl on the first day of summer and my older one -- well, on this day, so on the first day of fall. I have always loved this symmetry and, too, the nod toward the parade of seasons, toward the change that comes with them and they joy each one brings you. At least that's how it all appears to me.






When I was in Paris, I thought I'd pick up a card for this particular day. I was tempted to just get the standard birthday one with the greeting "joyeux anniversaire" or "bon anniversaire" but I thought to ask if it's appropriate for a wedding anniversary. The sales clerks shook their heads. Well then what? You could go with "felicitation," they said. A card with the generic "congratulations." Fine then, but it sounds so... removed from a wedding. Well, I do as the French do: I write my own message inside.






It's a gorgeous day! Cool, true, there is that, but brilliantly sunny and very fallish. A happy day indeed, especially since everyone for once got a good night of sleep. We are a well rested bunch!






Breakfast? Oh, definitely in the kitchen, with the door to the porch closed against the morning chill. It's barely 50F (10C) out there. Brrr!






Later in the morning, I meet my daughter and Snowdrop for the Saturday farmers market.


(Coming out of the car with a story...)






(She always begins our Saturday market walk with a croissant, for a second breakfast...)






(She is enchanted with the Badger Band, especially when they play a polka!)






(it's a beautiful day to be out with a little one...)






Well, I suppose it's a beautiful day to be out, period. At the market I buy 50 more pounds of tomatoes for our winter loot, and, too, several ears of corn from a farmer who really knows how to push the season! There is so much more that I could load into a shopping bag, but the fact is, we Madisonians tend to treat this Saturday market differently than say a person shopping at a local farmers market in France. Most people who come to this one don't walk with a shopping list for the week. More often, we buy something that looks especially good -- better than you would find at the grocery store. This happens in part because the market is so colorful, so pretty to look at, that it has become a real magnet for visitors. By midmorning, it is hugely crowded and hard to navigate if you're just there to buy your produce for the week. Still, many of the vendors do sell out. Perhaps not potatoes or onions, but those moonglow pears that you wont find at the grocery store. Or fresh oyster mushrooms harvested just in the last day. Or corn, or asparagus, or eggplant in all shapes and sizes. We buy these and worry about fitting them into our bags and strollers and walk away feeling that we've brought a little of a farmer's best bounty with us to our kitchen tables.


(farmette fall: an abundance of nasturtium blooms!)






(cheepers come a visitin'!)






(when I walk the farmette lands, they follow)







Late in the afternoon, Ed and I decide that this weather just cannot be wasted: we go back to our old hidden tennis court among the pines and play a robust game all the way into the early evening.

Happy fall to all of you! Here, at the farmette, we're off to a grand start to the new season!