ALMANAC
Almanac October
By Ashley Walshe
October is an ancient oak, quiet and delighted.
“Come, sit with me,” he whispers gleefully. “We’re nearly to the best part.”
The air is ripe with mischief and mystery. Can you smell the soil shifting? Feel the seasons turning in your bones?
Come, now. Rest at the roots of the mighty oak. Press your back against the furrowed bark and listen.
Goldenrod glows in the distance. Blackgum and sourwood blush crimson. A roost of crows howls of imminent darkness.
“Of course,” breathes the oak, hushed and peaceful. “But the darkness only sweetens the light.”
As a swallowtail sails across the crisp blue sky, birch leaves tremble on slender limbs; a crow shrieks of wet earth and swan songs.
You close your eyes, feel the vibration of sapsucker rapping upon sturdy trunk.
“Do you feel that?” you ask the oak.
“I feel everything,” he murmurs.
When you open your eyes, the colors are different. The green has been stripped from poplar and maple, reds and yellows made luminous by the autumn sun.
At once, the great oak shakes loose a smattering of acorns.
“Watch this,” he softly chuckles, sending the gray squirrels scurrying.
A sudden rush of wind sends a shiver down your spine. Leaves descend in all directions, wave after fluttering wave, in kaleidoscopic glory.
The goldenrod is fading. The sunlight, too. The swallowtail,
gone with the wind.
“Things are getting good now,” smiles the oak, his mottled leaves gently rustling.
You sense your own soil shifting. Feel the sweet ache of new beginnings. Let yourself drop into ever deepening stillness.
Soup’s On
It’s winter squash season. As the autumn days shift from crisp to chilling, what could be sweeter — or more savory — than roasted delicata, cinnamon-laced and fork tender? Acorn squash tart with maple, ricotta and walnuts? Cream of squash soup (butternut or kabocha) served with a crispy hunk of sourdough?
And let’s not forget pumpkin (and pumpkin spice) mania. It’s all here. Enjoy!
Center of the Cosmos
Until the first frost arrives — weeks or days or blinks from now — delicate blossoms sway on tall, slender stems, brightening the garden with color and whimsy.
Hello, cosmos.
One of October’s birth flowers (marigold, the other), cosmos are said to symbolize harmony and balance, their orderly petals having inspired their genus name. Native to Mexico, this daisy-like annual thrives in hot, dry climes. It’s the traditional flower for a second wedding anniversary gift and, according to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, was once thought to attract fairies to the garden.
Could be true. Just look how the butterflies take to them.