Harvest

 I cannot explain how satisfying it is to harvest the food that you've grown. 

This has been such a year of learning. I planted carrots in the Spring. They grew and were eaten by bugs. They grew back and were eaten by deer. Only five grew back and I surrounded them with chicken wire. In the meantime, I wondered how one knows when it's time to pull up a carrot. But the other day as I was looking at my five measly remaining carrots that were left, I noticed I could see the orange sticking up out of the ground. The top looked like a full-grown carrot, so I decided to yank it up. 

Is it just me, or does the misshapen vegetable, with all it's hoary roots, look better than the stick-like carrots you find in the store. You can't taste it, but I can. It was like the sweetest baby carrot, I've ever had. The inside had green rings. AMAZING.

Then, I decided to pluck out a parsnip of curiosity. Parsnips (like carrots) can be left in the ground until you're ready to eat them. Why use your refrigerator if you don't have to? 

Look at this Hogwart's beauty! 

Ants invaded my parsnip bed, but they don't seem to have snacked on these roots. I have about five more parsnips in the ground still. I'm going to find a soup recipe, methinks.

It's not like I've had baskets full of parsnips or carrots to harvest. That is the dream. In the meantime, slowing down to savor the new flavors, to appreciate the harvest, to really taste fresh food . . . that is what my first autumn is about.