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Sunday, October 15, 2006

Last harvest

Click on image to enlarge

Don gathered the last of the tomatoes and left them on the adirondack in this still life. (And he thinks he's not an artist.)
Don fries up the tastiest green tomatoes EVER. That perfect combo of tender inner sweetness with the savory, crisp crust.

We're back to a typical autumn day after the early snow last week.

Before moving to the farm in November 2003, autumn was my favorite season. But now, living out here, nature is close at hand every day of the year. I get to drive through farmland to work 5 days a week. Each day of each season is observable, touchable, changeable. Even the daily-different clouds are important in the landscape. If you ask what is my favorite season, I might just say "now."

14 comments:

Heather said...

Beautiful green tomatoes, Ruth. My poem about the muskmelon moon was really inspired by the whole idea of fall harvest. Fall is my favorite time. I loved your pumpkins in the snow, but these green tomatoes are really the last bit of summer we'll have for awhile.

Ruth said...

Heather, you and I both love winter. But I think that taste of it last week made me very grateful that autumn is here to stay a little longer. Let winter come in its time. But now, let us enjoy this autumn light through the last of the leaves still hanging on.

Peter said...

The bo is an artist whether he likes it or not...he is married to you afterall. Can an artist fall in love with a non-artist? I believe we're all artists in different ways, but that's also a cop-out answer. Only some are true artists, and both you and dad are.

Ruth said...

Pete, I don't know if an artist can fall in love with a non-artist. Maybe not. Dad, like a lot of people, did not grow up perceiving himself as an artist. He denies that he is one because he doesn't sketch or create visual art. But when he builds things, or arranges his classroom, he does it artistically. Are you an artist if you don't perceive yourself as one?

Rauf said...

beautiful composition Ruth,

I live in a polluted city, have to travel 50 kilometers to get some fresh air. you are so lucky.

Ginnie said...

So soulful, Ruth! I love it when Don enters your posts like this. He has a way of turning things to gold when he touches them. I think the two of you work very well together :)

Ruth said...

Rauf, thank you, but as I say, Don composed the shot, I snapped the photo. I thank the Universe every day for our place in the country. I never take it for granted, nor have I once minded the 30 minute drive, even late at night when I'm tired and want to just be in bed.

Ruth said...

Ginnie, you are so right about Don. There is no one like him. His energy is pure and never seems to end. So loving and giving.

Don said...

I put the tomatoes on the chair to see if Ruth would think they were artistic enough to warrant a photo! To me it is like buying clothes. I hold up a shirt for Ruth to see and ask, "Do I like this?" Right now my room looks like a dumpster after an earthquake. Your words are kind Thank you.

rachel said...

Must be a middle of the semester thing, my class is a dump, too!!! It started out so lovely, tho! I used to think artists were born that way, until I took a drawing class and saw what I thought were "non-artists," bloom into artists. Then, I realized that everyone truly is an artist waiting to be released into a safe place where their inner light or outer experience can be expressed in whatever form they choose, to be hated, judged or admired without fear or doubt.

Ruth said...

Rachel, beautifully said.

Ginnie said...

What Rachel said reminds me of what I think when someone says "I don't want to be like [fill in the blank]." That person ISN'T like [fill in the blank] the minute s/he is aware of what s/he wants. So is the positive of this true: that if I want to be [fill in the blank], I AM, by virtue of wishing/thinking it?

I'm sure this breaks down somewhere, but it's a thought.

Ruth said...

Ginnie, this is just what I've been reading about in "The Four Insights" by Villoldo. We can create our wishes. I'll keep you posted.

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