7 octobre 2018 dimanche
87 degrees, partly cloudy
13 mph, ssw wind
The winding journey to the Fort’s jardin potager leads one though the vast fields of the American Bottom which visually signal the seasonal change to autumn. Yesterday the clouds gathered and spread across the sky, blanketing the view at times in somber tones, not diminishing the glory of this land. One can feel the timelessness of this view and imagine a time before and in the early beginnings of European settlement in this rich land destined to nourish its inhabitants. Historian Dr. Wayne Temple takes note in his 1958 book, Indian Villages of the Illinois Country Historic Tribes, “Illini usually returned to their permanent villages from the summer hunt in time to harvest their corn in August or September. “ This observation of early cultivation customs feeds this enduring sense of Illinois Country agricultural history in the expansive Middle Mississippi River valley.
Once in the Fort’s jardin, the sense of autumn’s presence becomes even more pervasive. The expanding empty vegetable spaces in the raised beds lay amid the aging floral splendor of the garden signaling that it is beyond time to transition to fall crops. These empty garden spaces remind us that a garden, as a child of nature, does not wait for us to pace its journey. A garden is master of its own destiny and we can either assist or contribute to its success or let it pass us by. So in an effort to continue the jardin’s journey this year, time was spent these past few weeks preparing its beds, clearing plant debris and weeding, and sowing the seeds of autumn. Bean, carrot, lettuce, kale, pea, radish, spinach, and turnip heirloom varieties were sown on days in sunshine and at times in-between rain drops as the skies brightened and darkened as if on a whim. A few beans, cucumbers, bullnose and long Louisiana red cayenne peppers continue to be harvested, while nice quantities of our heirloom apples, mostly of the Calville Blanc variety have also been harvested this season. This particular French heritage apple variety seems to thrive here in our corner of the Illinois country.
Notably absent in the garden harvests this year are winter squash and melon, especially the colonial French favorite, watermelon. Normally a garden staple, weather and time have proved contrary through this growing season and the melon bed is now overrun with weeds. All it takes is a missed week during warm and wet growing season and the weeds aggressively explode. As luck would have it, friends have furnished a supply of this sweet staple on and off this late summer, reaffirming the importance of this French colonial favorite as a delicious sweet treat full of flavor. These kind offerings led to a late summer exploration of fruit vinegars, which I will share in an upcoming post. It is not hard to understand why this melon was a boon to l’habitants in the heat of Illinois Country summers.
Now in these slowing garden days of autumn, a change in focus from production to the preparation for the approaching winter begins to pull our attention. Some time now can be found to spend reaching out to the community and the region, learning new/old lessons and techniques and of new opportunities to promote the jardin’s story reflecting our region’s important agricultural story. From traveling to a living history farm near Des Moines, IA learning hand wheat harvesting techniques to appearing at area events that promote our region’s past and our garden’s journey, this heritage project learns from its historic cultural past, from those who work to preserve that history and the lessons that nature continues to reveal about the reality of that history. I am appreciative and thankful for those lessons.
This past year was a truly challenging one both in the garden and in life. On a personal note, I offer my gratitude and remembrance. After a very difficult year, this late summer saw the passing of my brother, Paul. He had a difficult last few years valiantly fighting cancer and his steadfast determination and perseverance was truly inspiring. I am thankful that his last months were full of the loving support of his wife, children, grandchildren, sisters and brother, nieces and nephews, and loyal and supportive family and friends. In our family of sometimes differing life journeys and perspectives, Paul, as the quintessential oldest sibling, embodied our family legacy of support and caring, proving our differences were not greater than our love. As Paul moved through the first year of his cancer’s resurgence after years-long remission, I was sweetly moved by a call I received from him one evening. He relayed how he recently had sat at his computer and read all of my jardin blog postings. He wanted to tell me that he loved the jardin’s story and my telling of it. That simple gesture between brother and sister tells a very personal tale of love and acceptance. And proves to me that life is about taking the time to reach out, embrace and celebrate family and friends, and that a moment can last a lifetime. I wish for you, Paul, a season of new life, in a beautiful field cultivated with our love and affection. Until we meet again, my brother, à bientôt.
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