Our First Harvest
And just like that, we’ve transitioned into fall. Summer brought us days that were full of energy, massive harvests, and socializing, but with the birth of our son in June, we were simultaneously slowed down to the pace of baby-time which softened us, and created days that felt endless.
I’m feeling a lot of peace entering the fall portal. Although we still have a long to-do list, we have the drifting oak leaves to remind us to let go of the things we can’t get done. This was our first time experiencing summer on the homestead and I’m feeling proud of what we’ve accomplished and learned so far. Our fruit trees survived (and thrived) and we even received our first few bagel peaches; it was a sacred act eating these peaches... what a gift from what was once just a stick in the ground! And although we let our garden go once our son was born (it truly became a jungle!), we still received a gorgeous amount of tomatoes, sunflower seeds, lemon cucumbers, and bell peppers. Not to mention, my in-laws garden also thrived producing juicy cantaloupe, more tomatoes, squash, zucchini, and potatoes for days. We were also blessed with the juiciest, most gorgeous plums this year from the plum tree that was already here on the land. Sally (my MIL) made deliciously sweet plum jam and plum syrup!
It’s funny to look back on how the summer went. I’ve been so preoccupied with the transition to motherhood that to me, it feels like I didn’t “do” anything. Ha! Raising our child was/is always a part of our homestead plan, and although I didn’t have my hands in the soil as much this summer, my hands were/are full of baby sweetness and one day, he’s going to help us in the garden, and it won’t be such a jungle.
All of this has me thinking about the word scarcity. Sometimes I get caught up in thinking “no, everything has to be done now, this season, this year, etc. because what if we don’t get another chance?” Then I look out at the fruit trees that haven’t developed fruit yet; they’re in no rush. They know it’s not their time yet. There’s no need to rush or race… they’re not worried about missing anything or competing with other trees. They’re just in their full being, enjoying the phase of life they’re in. So I guess that’s the learning, and isn’t it always? How can we all step into the present, just be, and enjoy what’s in front of us? Anyways, here’s some photos of our harvest:
