Squeezing in the Last of Summer

Already, the sun is rising noticeably later and setting markedly sooner. The angle of the light has changed as well, and nature is showing plenty of signs that she is preparing for autumn a little earlier than usual.

At our busy hummingbird feeders at Farmstead Creamery, the adults have just left to start their migration, while the juveniles remain to tank up for the long trip ahead. Last year, the adults stayed until Labor Day, with the youngsters hanging around another two weeks. That doesn’t appear to be the schedule this year! With spring coming later than usual this year, and the hummingbirds arriving two weeks after their usual Mother’s Day appointment, it’s been a short season for them.

While the calendar says that autumn begins in late September, folks who live in the Northwoods know that summer really consists of June, July, and August, with September squarely in the autumn camp with October. By November, it’s winter, no matter what the calendar thinks, and between now and then is a bundle of harvesting and preparations on the farm.

Every aspect of the farm is working to squeeze in the last glories of summer. The squash vines have exploded in their verdant glory, spilling out, up, and over the fence of the resting pig yards they inhabit. Hopefully below those towering vines is a treasure trove of winter squash, ripening before the frosts arrive.

The zucchinis likewise are trying their best to continue their plethora of fruits, but they are turning to their autumn look, where the leaves start to yellow and splay apart. Their burden of production is growing exhausting, and they know that frost will be their doom.

While life is waning in some parts of the garden, it is sprouting in others. With our exceptionally cool weather latterly, we’ve been reworking beds where we have harvested onions and planting them in fall crop spinach and arugula. These hearty greens cannot tolerate the heat, but we’ll be able to cover them in the cold and hopefully sneak out another tasty crop before everything freezes solid.

The apples on our trees continue to swell, and now they are blushing in tints of red where kissed by the sun. The crab apple trees are loaded as well with their small, deep red balls. These are excellent for adding to applesauce, giving it a lovely pink color and more diverse flavor. I can almost smell the applesauce on the stovetop now!

Late summer livestock transitions are happening as well. The turkeys are growing bigger, ever-curious in their adventures. The meat chickens have grown plump out in the pasture, and we are in the midst of our butchering season for them. It’s no one’s favorite task, but the lightening of the chore load is welcome. Hens are starting their autumn molt, with cast aside old feathers everywhere. Egg production will slow for a while as they grow new feather coats for the winter.

The fall-lambing group of ewes (momma sheep) are growing round. They will be due mid-September, and all kinds of transitions in the barn will take place to prepare for the oncoming lambing season. The spring ewe group are wrapping up their milking season, with their weaned little ones not so little anymore! At Farmstead Creamery, there are only a couple more sessions of our Saturday wood-fired artisan pizzas for pickup left, as the rigors of fall lambing take precedence post-Labor Day weekend.

The types of folks stopping by Farmstead has shifted lately as well. Instead of the family reunions and herds of grandchildren, the average age rises and the groups are smaller as families return to life in the school year. Those who can are still squeezing in the last bit of summer lifestyle before they head back home.

I’ve heard a few flocks of Canada Geese, but it won’t be long before more of the migrators are on the move and splashes of color begin to appear on the maple trees.

As summer’s fleeting presence wanes, all living things have worked to squeeze the most out of the season. Our flower gardens were a burst of glory this year, though now they are fading and looking a bit tattered. The horde of bumble bees that gloried in the flowers have also waned, and they perch lazily on the blooms in the evening, unable to go further until the warmth of the next morning.

In the kitchen, we busily freeze and preserve summer’s excess, stocking it away for the long winter ahead. Blueberries, green beans, broccoli…jam jars ping and zip-top bags snap shut. Like the squirrels, we are busy stocking away the harvest.

This week, take some time to enjoy the last of summertime and notice the transitions to autumn. See you down on the farm sometime.