Canada geese are unfailingly punctual. As I began to put my garden to bed this weekend, the honking from high above pulled my gaze to a cloud white sky. Those skeins of geese in long wispy V’s never fail to reassure: an ancient rhythm still pulses, something actually feels right with the world.
This weekend marked the end of my tomato season, the middle of apple season, and the beginning of planning for next year. For me, this is already a season of thanksgiving.