Autumn
It’s that time of year when we see birds gathering in great flocks. The urge to migrate to southern lands for many birds and a few insects such as the Monarch Butterfly becomes an overwhelming force. The early brilliant red colors of sumac and Virginia creeper predict the season, and we know that maximum fall coloration is only about two weeks away. Survival in the approaching cold season means early preparation and adaptation.
So we, too, spend some time preparing ourselves for the winter season. It’s a lot less now than in earlier times, but some of us have to or do more than others because of our individual life situations. Mary and I live in an old Civil War farmhouse.
This old farmhouse is to be battened down and buttoned up for the winter against the blustery wind. The storm windows are yet to be cleaned and fastened down. A thin bead of caulking will tighten window frames. The air conditioner and fans are stored in the attic along with shorts and sleeveless dresses.. The chirping and whirring of crickets will no longer be heard, but a screech owl chills our night time quiet. More often now the sounds from the spruces by the backdoor grow to a whispering, whining conversation. The ash pit below the fireplace has to be emptied and a sacrificial cord of ash and maple is already stacked by the back door. The palm, jade tree, and other plants on the patio will have to come in before the first frost. The remnants of the garden including peppers, tomatoes, eggplant and butternut squash will be stored in the basement. Mice from the field will once again find their way to a snug insulated attic and will probably succumb to baited traps.
I grew up on a small truck farm in southern West Virginia. We, my young parents and five children, were in a similar economic situation with most of our neighbors. We had no electricity until l939, no indoor plumbing or basement until about 1944. Natural gas was not available, so we depended for heat in the wintertime on a wood burning cookstove and a wood and coal burning pot-bellied stove in the living room. Most of the wood came as slabs from a nearby sawmill and coal came from the nearest mines about 30 miles away. Preparation for the winter season, particularly with food production and storage involved the labor of all members of the family.
A pressure cooker was used for food like corn that required high prolonged temperatures for preservation. Other foods were processed in boiling water baths with the cans completely submerged. Dried limas, black-eyed peas or cranberry (soup) beans were often a part of one daily meal. Our grandparents used dried green beans and apples.
For storage of root crops such as carrots, beets and turnips, a circular pit about 6 feet in diameter and two feet deep was dug in the sandy soil. The bottom was lined with straw, the root crops and cabbage placed on the straw, and the entire mound was covered with straw and something like a tarp. About six inches of soil topped the mound. A temporary door could be opened any time during the winter season. Apples and potatoes were stored in similar but separate pits.
A hog or two was fed scraps from the table, corn in the fall, and was killed in October. The meat was preserved with salt and hung in an unheated building. Lard was rendered from the fat. We always kept chickens and one or two milk cows. In the fall and early winter, wild rabbit and squirrels were tasty meals.
Joe Simons and his family came to Tiffin when he was ten years old. He remembers preparing for winter at his boyhood home in western Kentucky. The family moved the pot bellied stove from its summer storage place on the front porch back into the living room. They heated with short lengths of wood that were left over from a nearby stave mill and coal. Straw ticks were renewed and sometimes new feathers were added to the feather ticks and their covers were cleaned. In the coldest part of the winter, beds were moved closer to the stove. Neighbors gathered for a hog killing day and several hogs were killed and processed. Some of the meat was ground into sausage and stuffed into long narrow cloth tubes. These were smoked along with the hams in a smoke house.
Joe and I have many similar experiences in our early lives. Perhaps a large number of rural Americans that grew up before World War II have stories about the good old days. Our lives were centered around the family.
Autumn is such a wonderful season. Can animals appreciate the beauty of goldenrods, asters, sunflowers, and the striking varieties of color in the turning leaves? Is there something beyond evolution that allows our eyes and heart to perceive the beauty of this season?
– Percy