The scene at the farmer's market this past Saturday was one of abundance: so much late summer produce available. Perfectly, mouth-wateringly ripe. We've already begun certain food rituals of the season here at my house: making our first ratatouille; grilling eggplant for delicious smoky eggplant spread; freezing the first few batches of pesto from my garden. Good thing I wasn't planning on canning anything this year!
The market is laid out differently now, with more space in between stalls, and there are lines at all the entry points. But the only indication from a produce perspective that this is a fall unlike any other is the dearth of jack-o-lantern pumpkins. One farmer said they weren't bringing them to the City because they doubted there would be much demand for them, since so many seasonal gatherings have been cancelled. But our Governor, who has been pretty strict with all things COVID, said he would not ban trick-or-treating. So maybe we'll see those carving pumpkins there next week.
And even in this unusual fall, I still feel -- when the chill is in the air and the apples are especially crisp --- the urge to think about what I'm harvesting from spring-planted seeds.
I am harvesting creativity: I started writing my newest play, Saltwater Farm, in January, but the bulk of the writing came between April and August. My need to escape pandemic daily reality combined with extra found time, and that combination allowed me to create a world in another time and another place. My talented cast read the play in two parts. If you missed them, you can check them out on YouTube here (Act One) and here (Act Two).
I am harvesting consulting opportunities. As many annual conferences and meetings are being reimagined online, I am training speakers to deliver engaging messages and connect more with virtual audiences. I enjoy it, and always have time to help more people. Email me if you'd like to talk about how I can work with you or your organization.
I am harvesting hope. This pandemic won't last forever, but it will be a slog to get even close to the lives we led Before. Every step of that journey will be worth it if we take that time to begin dismantling the inequities this period has so starkly revealed. In this blog back in June, I mentioned some non-fiction works that helped give me perspective on these issues. Here are two novels that have given me further illumination (and enjoyment!) during this time: the '90's novel Daughters by Paule Marshall and the recent Booker Prize-winner Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo,
I am harvesting patience. I have to say, I'm not doing too well with this one. But every day offers new chances for improvement.
What are you harvesting?
