Summer’s crescendo is upon us. Vines sag with versicolor fruit. Our prose, it may be said, becomes a bit ripe. Amidst the abundance one is prone to celebrate the dappled things—an heirloom eggplant, a speckled lima bean. A neighbor chuckles at her joke: “Are we serious?”
Are we? Does the cant of back mimic crook of tromboncini? What proof a slender aloe? Do we measure our labor by length of light? Or by that most serious of matters: the tomato. Sweet glorious nightshade, cousin to peppers everywhere–they call you vine ripened. We ask: could it be otherwise.
It could always be otherwise. With light tread we balance late summer sentiment on the fulcrum of fall. Test the breeze with our tongues. It is good to be here, now. We have much for which to be thankful.
With this inaugural post, Harvey joins the writing team at Serious Farms.