September flipped her switch, and the season slid into an almost strangely smooth transition. The last two weeks of August, hot and muggy and miserable, and then switch, those cool nights and bright days. And now, two days out from equinox, the first frost. Right on time.

Last night we filled the kitchen with armloads of garden salvage: all the basil, all the ripe tomatillos and peppers. The cilantro, lemon balm, and mint. (Our tomatoes were long blighted and gone.) A gallon and a half of salsa verde to can, cups of pesto to freeze in ice cube trays, and the bundles of herbs to dry for mid-winter teas.

We covered the pepper plants, for this first frost was only light, and they may ripen a few more fruits before the next. Then, probably, we will pull them out whole and hang them to dry.

I still never bought the bushel of corn I meant to can. It's likely too late, now. The pear tree needs to be picked, and the potatoes dug. The seasons will spin quickly from here out: soon a hard frost, then hard freeze, then winter.

But the sun shines alluring outside, slanting already into afternoon. Get it while it lasts.