Dramatic Season Transitions

Just a week ago, the high was 75. The sun was shining, though the wind kept us from overheating. Rain was blowing in overnight, and we occasionally had to hang onto the shade canopy over the chicken butchering station to keep it from blowing away.

We were grateful for the lingering warmth, as it’s no fun butchering outside with freezing fingers. We’re also quite grateful that we are not butchering chickens today, just one week later. Today the high is 35 degrees, and it’s snowing and blowing out like a day in winter.

In the Northwoods, it really can change that quickly.

Transition seasons can be quite fickle. In the springtime, the weather rollicks between balmy and beastly, often with quick changes in-between. Spring can be moody, with spells of both hot and cold. One moment the sun is shining, the buds are swelling, and the birds are returning, but the next moment it’s sleeting and miserable. Eventually, summer arrives, pushing the temperamental but fleeting season of spring aside.

Autumn can also feel exceptionally short. This year, likely compounded by the dry conditions all summer, the trees decided it would be best to all turn colors and shed their leaves at once. The fiery reds of maples, the golds of birch, the auburns of oaks all had their show at once. Only the tamaracks are holding out for a late performance, as is their custom. It made for glorious pictures during the sunny week of their showiness. Now the rain and snow has stripped most of the glory, leaving limbs barren or sparsely clad in lingering foliage.

I’ve learned to visually soak in leaf season, as its glory is exceptionally fleeting. Dramatic shifts can happen in just a couple of days, as brilliance glows and then fades. Next time spring comes around, watch the color of the buds on the trees. You’ll notice that all the colors of autumn are already there, soon to be masked by the green of photosynthesis. Once the tiny tree solar panels have finished their work converting sunlight into sugar, the green dies back, revealing the color that was always there underneath.

As the deciduous trees decide to hunker down for the oncoming winter, we too are doing much the same on the farm. This year we managed to dig up all our potatoes before the ground began to freeze (a remarkable accomplishment on our end, considering how it’s been previously). The spuds were drying in crates stacked in the garage. With this pre-taste of winter, it was going to be too cold for them in the garage, so it was time to haul them down to the root cellar for safe storage.

The hay wagon loads of winter squash were ready to, curing in the white-door shed. A few days after our massive harvest before a hard freeze, I’d hauled in crates and worked the tedious task of sorting the squash by type. These I stacked into the crates on the wagon, staging them for the big move to the root cellar. Some of the varieties we raise are feed for the pigs, so these were set aside for them, as well as any damaged or underripe squash that would not be able to store well.

Yesterday was D-day for bringing all this harvest to storage, down the old wooden staircase in the farmhouse. Mom and Steve managed from wagon to the top of the stairs, Kara handled the crates down the stairs, and I stacked an organized them in the cellar, looking through each crate one more time for spoilage. 52 crates of squash and 25 crates of potatoes later and the haul was safe from the chill outside.

I had one crate to take back to the kitchen of “naughty squash,” whose blemishes would not allow them to last long. We had one orangey Sunshine kubocha for dinner that night, and oh did that taste good after all the labors of the day! This morning, the thermometer in the garage read 35 degrees. Tonight might be even colder, so we finished that task up just in time.

Winter and autumn may still tussle around a bit, fluctuating between the two. We all know that winter will eventually win that skirmish and settle in at the farm for months. We’re starting to prepare for that settling in as well, with fires in the woodstove and cozy evening projects.

Only a few hearty plants remain in the garden—carrots, brussel sprouts, turnips, leeks. We continue digging and harvesting before the real deep freeze arrives, when we’ll mulch the rest of the storage carrots for digging in the spring. Wintering tasks carry on as we prepare for the impending cold and deep snow that is sure to come.

Have you been preparing for the dramatic shifts in seasons? What marks the transition for you? Season transitions help keep things interesting in the Northland. Bundle up if today is a cold one! See you down on the farm sometime.