Pumpkin marmalade

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Can i just tell you? It’s 7:30am on a gorgeous sunday morning in october and i’ve been up for a while…

Believe it or not i love early weekend mornings, especially this time of year. on most eeeeearly mornings up here in the berkshires, when the sky is still dark, i can see a gazillion stars in the sky. a gazillion.

I turn the heat up, or better yet, start a fire in the wood stove and listen to the wind whip around through the trees. before i can actually see the sun come over the ridge, there is a gradual, monotone lightening of the sky and the frost-covered grass. a graveyard gray sweeps over the landscape. slowly & silently.

Sitting at my kitchen table with a cup of tea watching the sun come up in the fall is like, The ultimate in coziness. As the sun gets closer to revealing itself above the horizon of trees the sky starts to reflect wisps of pink, orange, & blue.

photoshop ain’t got nuttin’ on MN. when the sun finally hits the leaves of the trees, it’s an explosion of autumnal colors above the still deep green of the field. and in the middle of it all the serenity of the dozen or so hay bales laying-in-waiting for the farmer to haul them away.

eventually the whole thing just becomes too ridiculously gorgeous to even contemplate. know what i mean? the preciousness of all of this is that much more acute because we all know it’s fleeting.

soon the graveyard gray will come earlier, and stay longer. the wind will whip harder and for us (M & me) it means that we are packing up two cats who don’t particularly like to travel, some cookbooks i can’t live without, 1/2 a larder full of jams, pickles, and a myriad of other preserves, a bunch of work files, 2 laptops and whatever other sundries we deem necessary for the next 6 months that we park ourselves fairly permanently in LIC.

and like those little seed garlic cloves that got pushed in the ground at just about every farm and garden plot in these parts this weekend.

my desire to be back up in the berkshires is buried, but not necessarily dormant, until spring.

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