The CSA has officially ended. Though Early Morning Farm will continue to appear at market every Saturday for the next few weeks, the main purpose will be the sale of a dwindling supply of produce--mostly root crops, onions, and, for a short period of time, hardy greens like kale.
We have emptied the greenhouses, relieving the tomato vines from their losing struggle against the heaviness of cold air. We have relieved our backs of the weekly bent harvest of peppers. The eggplants, having curled their paling tips into themselves like shriveling grapes, were mowed. Blackened basil decays next to crisp sunflowers bowing to gray sun. I am now bowing to early evenings and late mornings.
There was a celebratory picture of the crew after setting up the stand for our last market haul. After the photo, I stood at the center of the pavilion's three converging wings and watched other vendors set up and mingle. This would be my last day at market for the season--a long season--and I devoted my pause to appreciating the moment's finality. My gaze traveled down the central wing to the dock and over the lake. As I took in the sudden bareness of the surrounding trees, stark in the morning sun filling the air, I took comfort in my preference for fall.
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