Harvest Perspective

It struck me, looking through my last post, that I was feeling rather gloomy about this summer. I still do, a bit - it was a tough one for so many reasons. But as we moved through Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (when we tend to reflect more upon what went wrong in the last year, coupled with the huge frustration that can come from wrangling a young family while trying to engage with services) into Sukkot, my perception shifted. 

Sukkot is originally a harvest festival and for those of us not still making a living directly from agriculture, that can seem rather remote. The practical bits are wonderful - our annual Sukkah-building party had the usual 30-40 people, crowds of children, plenty of hot soup and ratatouille and other good things brought by friends. We even made some new traditions, ushering in the Autumn chill by building gingerbread sukkahs (sukkot, technically, but you know what I mean). It poured with rain for the entire week of Sukkot so we didn’t get to eat a single meal out there, but somehow it didn’t matter when we had our biggest and best sukkah ever to hang out in for a snack or a drink in the odd dry half hours. 

It was while I sat drinking my coffee and contemplating the decorations that I realised that a harvest festival can be interpreted into a celebration of anything we have achieved through our own effort. After the contemplation of the High Holy Days, Sukkot can give a wonderful balance - being outside after days in the synagogue, quiet contemplation in the sukkah after services packed with words and music, and acknowledging our successes of the past year. 

And so here is the other version of our summer:

Daniel started music lessons with Sound Tribe: half an hour

a week of jamming on guitar, drums, bass and keyboard.

Much forest pottering was done.

We got a small harvest from the allotment before life intervened.

The synagogue retreat was beautiful from start to finish.

The boys had their first trip on a cross-channel ferry (a defining holiday experience for both of us when we were small) and a remarkably enjoyable roadtrip through France. I even drove abroad for the first time. 

We managed several family bike rides. 

Hung out with some Anglo-Saxons...

...and some modern-day friends. 

Ate great pizza (made by Daniel and Adam at their own suggestion). 

Did gardening. 

Swam in the sea (or rather, waded in fully-clothed).

Played new games...

...did some Science...

...and wore many great hats.

Not so bad after all, huh? And although we didn’t get down to the allotment much (*cough* ever), we did get enough blackberries for some bramble jam, sloes for gin, apples for sauce and jelly, and lots of chestnuts for roasting. There are also several jars of quince jelly, thanks to a friend who brought the fruit to decorate the sukkah (which it did, then I used it at the end).

There is something very right about foraging and harvesting at this time of year, bringing everything inside to be cooked and preserved as the weather becomes chilly and we turn inwards to the warmth of home.

Apple jam next.