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Posts Tagged ‘pumpkins’

Fall this year seems different. It seems to be taking longer to be … well, fall. Not to complain. The days have been mostly sunny and in the 70’s for weeks, and in the 50’s-60’s at night. Heaven, really.

On my front porch, fall has arrived at my door with a basket of leaves and a pumpkin I picked up from Melick’s Farm in Oldwick a few days ago. In the morning sun, it glows so nicely.

Meanwhile, on my back porch, summer still reigns, and the vivid pop of color from Impatiens cheers up the quiet afternoons.

And the coleus (which you saw a few posts back) just continues to grow like wildfire. The will to live and grow that these plants have is undeniable, and I have already decided that they will stay in their favorite spot until the frost, whenever that may be. I’ll be sorry when they go – they’re such a bright spot when I go down to get the mail or hop in the car. I don’t think I’ve ever been more vigilant about a plant’s needs. Especially when all they ask is to be watered.

Inside, fall has come to grace the spots that welcome seasonal touches … the oak washstand in the hallway, and spots all about the house that welcome autumn colors and textures. Likewise I have switched my dishes to those I use for fall and winter, and am happy to put away the bright colors of spring and summer.

There’s something so home-y about the fall colors, so cozy and warm.

Outside, the trees have not yet turned color, not many leaves even fallen yet. Days are beginning to get noticeably shorter. Apples are coming in to the local farmstands, along with pumpkins and gourds of every color and pattern, though there’s still plenty of fabulous corn and tomatoes to be had. Soon there’ll be freshly pressed cider, and a chill to the air.

Fall coming slowly is just fine.

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Farmstand-appleTomatoes2

There are always wonderful things to love about wherever we live. Out my way, in a highly agricultural area, there is fresh produce.

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I am so grateful that from the first greening of asparagus in the Spring through apples and pumpkins in the Fall, there is always an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables available. And even though they are not grown in my part of the state, (fairly) local blueberries and cranberries can be found in season as well. (Did you know that New Jersey is the #1 producer of blueberries in the U.S.? And #3 for cranberries!)

Farmstand-Peppers2

New Jersey has an unfortunate reputation of being like the very small area of smoggy highways and industrial refineries located in the eastern part of he state. But hello! New Jersey is the Garden State, and best known for its seasonal unfolding of tomatoes, corn, apples and everything in between. We are joined by nearby Pennsylvania in offering a true harvest of delicious and healthy foods from early April through late November.

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Particularly in Fall, the beauty of apples, squash and pumpkins is a treat for the eye and palate, and an inspiration to cook and bake. Local farmers often have up to 10 varieties of apples daily which change as the trees come into fruit. Their own fresh-pressed cider tastes completely different each week thanks to the blend of apples they include.

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To live in an area where I can stop and pick up fresh, locally grown food along any number of routes is indeed a blessing, for which I truly am grateful.

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It has been a lovely Fall so far … crisp, sunny days with a light chill at night, not quite cold enough to turn on the heat, but chilly enough to warrant a warm blanket or quilt.

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On morning walks the leaves seem to whisper that no matter how green they are now, they soon will be slipping into golds, crimsons and pale, dusky rose.

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Pumpkins and mums announce the onset of Fall, and the river glides lazily towards the sea, resplendent surrounded by her last-of-summer greens.

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The smile that flickers on baby’s lips when he sleeps — does anyone know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumor that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning.   ~ Rabindranath Tagore

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