Cider Dreams

from this–

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to this–

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I have a couple of bushels of apples to process and made a good start on them today.  We don’t have a cider press–that will be amended, I hope–and so apples have to have all the yucky bits cut out and they are peeled and cored and go into the freezer to be juiced when they’ve all come in.

The MacIntosh always comes in at the end of June/beginning of July but the old Cortland doesn’t ripen for another month. I want them both in the “estate” cider, so I can afford to be patient.  We’ve also been picked lots of berries and today we got our first banana pepper. Delicious!

I posted on Facebook today that I was diving into the “middle” harvest and a friend asked me what that meant.  It’s the harvest between the big spring harvest and the big fall harvest and it means that garden food starts to be plentiful again.  Cucumbers, tomatoes, green beans, peppers, eggplants and more–all starting their ripening time. Their delicious time.

We just passed the Summer Solstice and are now in the declining part of the agricultural year.  Though it is many months away, we begin to dream of cooler weather and packed larders–putting as much by as we can for the winter to come.

We look back so often, we Pagan folk.  We speak with reverence of our Ancestors and the old days of the movement.  We frequent Renn Faires and belong to SCA cantons.

But we are also always looking forward, thinking of the next holy day, the planting, the harvest.  We are dreaming of community centers and temples and intentional green communities.

We stand like the famous statue of Hekate who looks in three directions.  With our feet firmly in the brown rich Earth, our ears tuned to the voices of our Ancestors and our eyes squinting into the sun of the future. I don’t know how we manage it except I’m not sure we perceive time in the same way the dominant culture does.  That spiral in/spiral out thing allows us a circular and non-linear appreciation of the time that surrounds us.

Even now, I’m thinking about putting down the cider–and also dreaming of the crisp, sweet taste of it when it has finished fermenting.

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