Dear Friends and Family,

I walked out onto my deck a little after 4 this afternoon to find the sun practically gone behind the ridge that borders our farthest pasture. I stopped for a moment, taken aback. Then I remembered, we're back on standard time. Already the chickens across the creek were beginning to bed down. (Closer to the base of another ridge they lose light an hour earlier). I've been clomping across the creek to close the door to the coop around 6 each evening. Now I'll be doing that by 5. Soon it will be closer to 4.

The ridges that surround this property, following the course of Flat Rock Creek, form a kind of elongated, irregular U with the open end facing north. The effect of that is to prolong the fading light of winter evenings. Even though the sun has disappeared, it has not set, so the sky remains lit with exquisite color for another hour before dusk. This evening the western sky was pale yellow that gradually became tinged with pink. As I turned left off the deck to walk toward the A-frame, there was the full moon, palest pink, well above the eastern ridge, against a background sky of palest gray-blue. I took my time walking past the sheep and the cows in the upper pasture and over to the turkeys behind the A-frame, basking, if you will, in that beauty. I knew that when I turned to come back the western sky would have changed yet again, probably fading toward the clear blue of dusk. There is something about this time of year that makes me so grateful that chores "require" me to be outside at this time of day. How else could I witness the gracious benediction of the evening light.

All of our trees have lost their leaves yet the grass remains very green and growing. It's the rain. By the time I returned from California on the l5th the red maples had only their lower leaves. I was so disappointed not to have the "time" to enjoy their usual magnificent display. Still I did notice, as Riley and I were slogging around the wet pastures, that the gray weather gave a certain glow to the color. I tried to remember to look up from the mud from time to time to enjoy that loveliness.

Rain seems to have followed us to California (where we'd been told) it never rains in October. John and Denise' wedding missed by just a day an "unusual" storm coming up the coast with torrential rain and gale force winds. Our weekend in Sonoma was pretty gray and soggy and cold. Nevertheless the wedding was a spectacular joy with Denise in her turquoise silk gown and John in suit with matching stripe. Their joy in each other and in the occasion lit up the landscape as well as any sunlight. The occasion was made even more precious by the gathering of Denise' family from all over the world: Canada, Chile, Germany, Israel; and by the long-delayed meeting of younger members of our family with their California kin.

Next weekend I travel to Louisville to the 10th Annual Healthy Foods, Local Farms Conference. (I've only been twice before). This year the focus is "Growing Community Through Food." The opening harvest celebration on Friday evening is at the Seelbach Hotel. Shades of the Great Gatsby, I've read. Anyway, Wendell Berry is always at these events and I cherish every moment spent in his presence. Next day we will hear from Josh Viertel, Nicolette Hahn Niman, and others from Slow Food and related movements. With farmland here being destroyed at the rate that it is, I need to connect with that larger communion of folks devoted to sustaining our precious and fruitful earth.

Meanwhile the greens in the high tunnel have flourished. The farm family has already made 2 of the 4 deliveries of their Fall season. After that the turkeys go to processing and delivery in one long day. Then the lambs go for processing for winter delivery. We will spend Thanksgiving day again with our friends the Desai's in Nashville. They were in India this summer to visit their daughter Anya so I look forward to seeing what that place looks like and to hearing all about her amazing work there.

I do give thanks for the opportunity to share some of my musings with so many of you. Your attention provides the needed nudge for me to take the time to notice what I am about here, to give thanks, and to stay the course. Love, Louise