She's Slow

Nature is slow in moving the seasons up to the hill country.  Flowers bloom and gardens produce earlier down in the valley than here.  Even the grape harvest is much later this year.  I had thought I might have missed the event, not having seen the pickers in the vineyards or heard the rumble of crushers from the winery next door and those across the hills, but yesterday there were the familiar trucks in Robert's parking lot and the forklift busily carrying the big bins up and down the rows and back to the processing shed.  The girls are hanging out by the fence line in the big pen.  They know it won't be long until the guys start pitching those sweet stems left from the crush over to them.  It's the goats' favorite time of year.

As reluctant as I might be to leave home anymore, I have to say that these country roads are a delight for the eyes in the fall.  The grape vines nearest the top of the hill are still green, but even down by the big road, some varieties have turned red just in the last week.  Japanese maples here and there are ablaze with color, and whatever-they-are trees are like spotlights of bright gold along the roads.  I imagine the pistach along the one stretch of road through Placerville are already dressed in their fall finery.  It would almost be worth a trip to town just to admire their beauty.  Almost.

That overnight rain we had was enough to soak the ground and wash the truck.  Cool enough for a jacket all day yesterday, temperatures back in the 80s are predicted for next week.  It seems Nature isn't ready to let go of summer just yet.