The coming of yesterday’s daylight revealed Lynn Canal whipped into large white-capped waves as a 40-knot equinoctial gale charged through the region. The rain we need so badly spattered the cabins picture windows and beat down the yellowing leaves of the remaining rhubarb. My morning coffee brew mingled with the aroma of a pot of windfall Anway apples heating on the stove (see Charles Anway Gives the Gift of Autumn). It looks, feels, and smells like Autumn.
As I’ve mentioned previously on this blog, autumn comes cautiously to our homestead. It arrives when and as it will, but a certain denial by some family members (see Ghost Ferns and Witchy Woods) prevents me from acknowledging it as I would. Now, well past Labor Day, with all the signs there for even the most fervent season denier, I can use the “A word” without fear of contradiction or reproof.
Last night we watched a brown bear wander toward the mouth of the bay before we crossed for home. I’m beginning to scout for moose ahead of the subsistence permit hunt that starts September 15th. We’re resignedly planning for Aly’s departure for school the day before that. We’re even laying plans for a Thanksgiving celebration with family down south.
As I write this (Sunday) with the weather cooperating fully, we’ll stay inside and make a new batch of devil’s club soap. As the tourist season winds down, this batch will be for our use, and for sale on our store page. This is a perfect way to spend such a day. If we get the work finished early enough, Aly and Michelle will start sewing a new kuspuk. I’ll probably start a couple new batches of wine (hmmm… Anway apple wine. Why not?)
We may even make room for a puzzle on the floor. Aly picked up a Charles Wysocki puzzle with an autumn theme at a garage sale yesterday, and we’re accepting the challenge to finish it before she leaves.
No doubt about it, autumn is upon us. And it feels great!