Fall has set in with earnesty, and I can feel winter approaching swiftly. The days are growing shorter and so is the harvest. Many moments spent in the golden light of October on my knees digging for potatoes or in the rain pulling carrots. In the summer, day and night turned over into each other so quickly, and now everything seems to be slowing down with the cold, including time. The last crops still in the field reflect the season, thick skinned and rooted things. With less than two weeks remaining before I leave this place I find myself in a space of appreciation and completion. As I move my books and my clothes out of my room in the barn, I imagine who might rest their head here next year, what they might find here, and how they will feel come October.