Hello, dearest. How fitting it is to start this on the first day of fall, a season I have been resisting against up until this weekend. There are two reasons for this: summer is my absolute favorite, with the long, drawn-out days of light and the way everything stays bursting forth and alive. The other is that I have long been accustomed -- both by this world, and in the industry I work in, to constantly be thinking of "what's next": what's the next deadline, what's the next thing I have to plan for, what trip do I need to pack for, what event do I need to prepare for. This summer I resisted that, languishing in the season's glow as long as I could, not once wishing for fall until this weekend, when the heat was so great I felt I could barely take it anymore. Dear reader, I came so close. I feel like I did my due diligence, respecting nature's time without trying to superimpose my own clock upon it.
Tomatoes are HARD: or, my season of growth
Tomatoes are HARD: or, my season of growth
Tomatoes are HARD: or, my season of growth
Hello, dearest. How fitting it is to start this on the first day of fall, a season I have been resisting against up until this weekend. There are two reasons for this: summer is my absolute favorite, with the long, drawn-out days of light and the way everything stays bursting forth and alive. The other is that I have long been accustomed -- both by this world, and in the industry I work in, to constantly be thinking of "what's next": what's the next deadline, what's the next thing I have to plan for, what trip do I need to pack for, what event do I need to prepare for. This summer I resisted that, languishing in the season's glow as long as I could, not once wishing for fall until this weekend, when the heat was so great I felt I could barely take it anymore. Dear reader, I came so close. I feel like I did my due diligence, respecting nature's time without trying to superimpose my own clock upon it.