Its apple season around here. 

For those of you on the northern side of the globe, think September. The kids have recently gone back to school. The morning breeze is crisp, but the afternoon sun is still warm. The evenings glow, warm and golden, and the sleeping is good on cool nights. 

It is the perfect season for apples. Around where I live there are tens, maybe even hundreds of apple trees all brimming with green, yellow, and red treasures. Some of the trees are old forgotten relics of previous homesteaders, likely German immigrants nostalgic for a proper kuchen or strudel. Other trees have been recently planted by neighbors eager for a certain variety. Not all of the apples are pretty. Some are prone to pests, others to mold. Some apples are very small and sour, others are plump and sweet. Regardless, this year I can't get enough of the fruits that can be harvested from around the house. Spending more time at home with baby girl has encouraged me to be observant and creative. A trip to the supermarket is not as easy as it was, so why not make an apple crisp rather than go out for the missing cocoa for that cake? Even better, my mother-in-law helped me to capture this sweet season by starting a batch of fresh apple cider vinegar. Months to come we will be reminded of hopping old farm fences to sample apple trees. We will remember long slow walks with two month old Ana just starting to focus on the red orbs in front of her. 

Vinegar fermentation has the whole house smelling sweet!

So many little treasures to be found on an autumn day in a magical place.

The ghosts of summers past linger in the fallen leaves, forgotten crafts, and silent valleys. The land is still full of color, but it is quieter, gearing up for winter. The animals graze, slowly putting on a thicker layer. A piece of honey comb lies forsaken in a pile of leaves. The days grow shorter and will soon seem to have hardly come at all. Any day now, and the world will be frozen. 

November is a magical month.

I had forgotten how golden the light is this time of year in the northern parts of the middle of the west. While most of the brightly colored leaves have fallen to the ground, their warmth is still present like a crunchy carpet. Rich reds mix with browns, oaks, maples, sycamores. There are still a few dots of green, vascular plants preparing for the freeze. Its really the smell that gets me, though. Sweet and earthy. The smell of jumping into piles of leaves, walking home from the bus stop, jean jackets, football games. My childhood comes racing back to me on every inhale. 

It has been a long time since I have had November in Indiana. Maybe almost a decade? But no matter how many years have passed, a little walk with my sisters with the wind and the woods around us, laughter in the air, makes it seem like yesterday. 

Happy Fall!!!!

I know that most of you are happily transitioning into mid Spring but here in the south, we are gearing up for winter.  While many of the native trees here don't senesce, introduced varieties like Maples, Oak, and Poplar are brightening our shortening days.  The two Japanese Maples in our yard are brilliant.  And along with the pretty leaves, the fruits of autumn are also falling.  My neighbor was nice enough to gift me a pile of squash which I have been mixing into everything possible.  But more abundant than squash right now are the chestnuts or castañas.  They fall from the trees protected by their mighty spiked husks.  I am still removing chestnut spines from Pablo's head from those that fell on him a few weeks ago when he was out raking up mountains of the nuts.  And despite the fact that all of the four neighbors in the area are plagued with an abundance of castañas, our enterprising neighbor kid has set up shop and is selling nuts at 1,000 pesos the kilo.  Needless to say, we have had our fill of roasting chestnuts over the fire.  Because when the nights get chilly and the wind from the river starts blowing, we, like every other family in Valdivia, light our wood burning stove and get cozy around the fire.