Sometimes I feel like the whole year revolves around fall’s arrival. Any proper New Englander would say that’s it’s their favorite season. People love the crisp mornings and clear days, the bright splashes of color that start appearing shortly after Labor Day, and the slow creep of color down the mountains. It’s actually hard not to like fall up here unless you dwell too heavily on what comes next, and how long that season will hang around. I’ve never been one to worship fall; I’m more of a summer girl, maybe because of my July birthday.
The farmers’ market turns into a bountiful cornucopia of fall-ness with displays of palm-sized Delicata squash to the mammothly huge, gray Hubbard squash. Then there are the apples, new to heirloom varieties. You can buy them from your favorite farm stand, the grocery stand, or of course, pick-your-own farm…and there are the ensuing apple pancakes, applesauce, and apple crisps to follow. Even though this year’s maple syrup is a couple seasons-old by now, it comes into its full glory in the fall where leaf-peepers pick up gallons of the sticky nectar to bring home, providing bragging rights for “real Vermont maple syrup.” The woods are alive with the sounds of scurrying chipmunks and squirrels readying themselves for the cold months ahead, and the leaves crunch, soft and sweetly fragrant beneath your sneakers. Country roads host dripping displays of native grapes hanging high and low, and the scrubby weeds turn brilliant reds and yellows. Yes, it is a good time to live in New England.
Sun, September 27, 2009