I don’t know how many times this fall I’ve said the words “tonight is it for everything. Supposed to get down to 16″. But its been heard alot and I believe Joey has just stopped listening to me altogether and just goes about doing what he knows needs to be done – a good hand.

“A change in the weather is known to be extreme.” A line from Dylan that rings in my head every time we get a major weather change. Really has no relation to anything. I think it got burned into my brain during a particularly agonizing breakup in high school. I listened to the Dylan album ” Blood on the Tracks” nonstop for a year. “But what’s the sense of changing horses in mid stream”

Some days, not many, I have enough left at the end of the day to go for a bike ride. Riding is one of the few things that will truly clear my head of all the noise. Each ride is different in how long it takes for the mind to quiet and to allow for the ride to be experienced. Some days the mind never stops spinning. Some days you get thrown to the ground or into a tree by unseen forces trying to help you – their technique is crude but effective.

Hardpan. Its that thing that stops your digging fork cold 6″ below the top of the bed. Its that thing that makes you set the fork down and go change from Tevas to work boots so you can stomp on the fork. Its that thing that breaks the cheap ass foreign made fork you just bought. Its that thing down there that keeps water from flowing downward and turns it to flow out the side of the bed into the path. Its that thing down there!

Several nights ago the the flanks of Mt Lamborn turned from a summer green to the yellows, oranges and reds of Autumn. Even that aspen patch on the west flank of Coal Mt turned yellow. All in one night. Or perhaps I just hadn’t looked in a couple days. But I always look at those mountains during my days in the garden.

A few days back we were digging into our not quite finished compost pile to top off some newly formed beds. Joey brought two wheelbarrow loads back to the beds and I was pulling it out, crumbling it up, and spreading it on top. On one of my grabs for a double handful of compost I spotted something very foreign and alive just to the left of my left hand. It scare the shit out me even though I had just caught a glimpse of it. Whatever it was it was primitive and out of place – that much I could feel. Looking again I saw it was a fairly large salamander. I used to see them quite often in the mountain lakes we would spend our summer days with as a kid. But its not a creature I see very often these days. Perhaps once a decade. But there it was a very dark green salamander. Only a bit lighter than the compost. But what the hell was it doing in a wheelbarrow of compost and how did it get there?

When I went out to piss at 2:00 the stars were brilliant and it was cold. I knew the oldtimers had been right. It was going to frost in about 2 hours.

Its September 6th today. A sun filled crystal day. Beautiful. The morning was cool but warmer than the last few. A nice cool breeze is preventing the garden from feeling hot as we harvest beans, tomatoes, parsley, sage, summer squash, slicing cucumbers, onions, leeks, corn, watermelon, carrots, spinach, chard, kale, arugula, potatoes, and flowers as well as prep a couple of beds for a late sowing of Asian greens. A busy morning full of wonderful reaping of all we have sowed this past spring and summer.

When I first moved to this rural agricultural valley it was mid winter. I had rented an off grid strawbale house on a lonely mesa above town. It was just me and my dog Gabe along with the deer, elk, and cougars. I had a 10 minute drive down step narrow snow covered dirt roads on north facing slopes to get to town. It was a familiar and comforting situation for me. I knew the landscape and the lifestyle.

For me life always feels good as the first hints of fall touch the crisp morning air.