At the beginning of September I’m always reluctant to let go of those last days of Summer. This year I was glad that a christening on the Lyn peninsula gave us the excuse to wave jump in a surprisingly warm Welsh sea before hunkering down to Autumn cosiness. By the end of September I’m full of enthusiasm for lighting the wood-burner on chilly evenings and baking granola to go with the last of the figs from the garden. There are apples and pears to pick, Autumn fruiting raspberries to enjoy with thick yogurt, and cobnuts to scatter on blackberry cakes.
I’m relishing those misty, mellow mornings with their gentle golden light. Today morning when I went out to feed the chickens, two surreal muted rainbows linked the hills. Romantically, I thought how beautiful it was and optimistically looked forward to running back over the hill from school. Less romantically it was chucking it down when I puffed and panted in my attempt to make it home. At least it hopefully burnt off some of the September comfort food I’m scoffing and I felt properly alive after too many workdays inside on a screen.
September just has so many delicious offerings tempting me. We had copious bowls full of plums this year, the last went into a jar of Russian Plum liqueur that I made from a recipe in Diana Henry’s salt sugar smoke. Pears are being roasted, apples are going into butterscotch pudding and, more healthily, the rainbow chard is as handy in the kitchen as it’s stunning in the garden.
I love September, it’s a time of plenty but with an air of sweet decay. On the road leading to Ruby’s school, abundant apples are crushed along the road – reminding me of cider every time I go on the school run! I have plans to make raw cider vinegar with apple peel and cores (for the chickens as much as us) but that’s another story…
In the garden there’s a chaotic mixture of vibrant flowers (pink Cosmos, yellow Rudbeckia, Sunflowers grown by Ruby from her own saved seed) and fading blooms.
So many things that I haven’t cleared including seed-heads that are providing treats for birds, butternut squash in danger of being covered by rampant nasturtium and plenty of runner beans for the kitchen. Only a few quince this year so no quince brandy or quince membrillo I fear, the few precious quince are probably destined for lamb tajines. The damsons are fast falling and heading for more sweet decay but still have hopes of making Liz Knight’s delicious sounding Damson Chocolate cake. Definitely a month to relish.