September welcomes us here in the Inland Northwest, often with a storm. The first rains after a parched and cracked dry season. And then it comes… like an avalanche of frenetic power.

Wild Blackberries full of thorns and sweetness. Raspberries. Sloeberry. Huckleberry. Elderberries too.

Mmmm fermented elderberry honey!

Wild Grapes. Giant Puffballs. Chestnuts. Hazelnuts. Walnuts. Hawthorne. Chickweed. Chokecherries. So many plums I can barely keep up. I dream in plum. Pounds upon pounds of plums and plums and plums.

Me being out of canning jars. Bartering for more.

Rowan. Pine Nuts. Oregon Grape Holly (my favourite.) Hops. Currants. Also of note is that night I ate oreos for dinner because I was sick of seeing fruit.

I’ll appreciate this work come winter though. Oh look! The leaves are starting to turn and


I blow a kiss to the equinox as she flows by dressed in the fiery colours of death and the whispered promise that the world will live again come Spring. Now I roll up my sleeves and getting back to work.

Chicken of the Woods. Mint. Mullein. Pears giving way to apples. Cider making. Laughing with friends while we forage and harvest. Apple and pear rings in the dehydrator. A backlog of trays waiting for said dehydrator space.

Dry Beans. Clipping marigolds for dye. Potatoes. Calendula. Poppy Seeds. Winter Squash.

This is September.

Oh hey, did we just pass a wild rose bramble? Please excuse me while I just… I’ll be right back.

Blessed be.

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