Tomato AND shadow

Tomato AND shadow

This blog could have gone in two other directions.  I have been sitting at the computer befuddled for five whole minutes, not sure how to begin.  Here were two ideas:  Time to Make Zee Hot Salsa:  Cha, cha, cha!  or  Celebrating the Equinox Two Days Late.

The first option seemed way too silly.  I am tired of silly, right now.  The second blog option seemed way too serious.  That wouldn’t do, either.  My fingers refused to type.  The brain refused to engage.  Until, finally, tentatively the words were typed out:  Salsa and shadows…  That shall have to suffice.

So here we are, two days after the autumnal equinox.  The weather outside is so glorious you want to run or bathe or dance in the warmth of the beautiful September “Indian Summer”.  The leaves are turning oh-so-slowly.  And the garden tomatoes are ready to be plopped in a dutch oven (after dunking in boiler water to remove the skins and cut up) along with garden onions and peppers of numerous varieties and cilantro. 

It’s Time.  Time for Salsa.  Cha-cha-cha!  (Sorry, we’ve got a wise guy as an internal voice!)  So the tomatoes were picked by a vigilant husband during my absence, and I readied to prepare his salsa.  I say “his” because it’s way too hot for me.  Therefore, it is his responsibility to cut up the biting little green curling peppers.  He did.  And decided to sample a bite, to see how hot it might be.  He’s still drinking water hours later, Cha-cha-cha!

The seven finished pints of salsa

The seven finished pints of salsa

It’s really been a calm canning year.  Usually I’m putting up at least five or six times as much.  This feels much more relaxing. 

Shadows have been etched on this early autumn day, shadows perhaps foretelling the coming days of winter?  This strange thought just crossed through:  is winter the shadow of summer?  It looks all dark and empty at times, but oh what beauty arises in the shadows!

Shadows near steps

Shadows near steps

Of course once you start looking for shadows, they appear everywhere.  At least when the sun shines.  The following two photos feel nostalgic and bittersweet; the last vestiges of flower-shadows.

Flower shadow on deck

Flower shadow on deck

Still reaching toward the sun

Still reaching toward the sun

Oh, it’s so easy to go outside these days.  Indoors, outdoors, it doesn’t matter.  You walk in and out of the door dozens of times every day.  What a lovely autumn we’re having…

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