Here Again

This time of year, I often just think, “Huh. Here again already?” I probably think that for all times of the year, as farming has a way of flattening out reality and marking the years with it’s patterns.

On the cusp of September up here, things changed markedly and quickly: the pace, the vibe of daily work, the natural surroundings. Already there are streaks of yellow through the woods and trees along the roads. Already our early morning starts are becoming a thing of the past, as at 5:50 in the morning this week, I was wondering if we will have enough light to harvest salad at 6 (next week, surely not). Already I feel the dew speaking, telling us that one of these mornings soon, it might be frost instead. One never knows. And that is just it…one never knows.

This is probably the most pleasant time of year to do this work. It’s still warm enough to work outside without bulky clothes, but without being all the biting insects that June and July bring. The sun is still coming up early enough to chase the chill away. That won’t last long.

We have one, maybe two more rounds of direct seeding to put in the ground. But even if it is two, the second one will be for 2022. Yup, not even for this year, but for next. Because you have to decide mid-madness if you are going to sign up again. And why not. Yesterday a wildfire smoke rolled into the area that is more intense than any before it. I don’t know if it was coming in from the Boundary Waters, or from Canada. It was thick with a campfire smell. I think about 2022 now, and I see the smoke thicken everything, and I think, “Here we are. I guess I’m in it no matter what happens.” And it feels like just about anything could.