In the early days of fall, the Valley is filled with busyness; the corn and alpha fields are being cut. Long rows of corn diminish down to small squares and then empty fields of stubble. The alfalfa lies in nice neat rows drying out before being bundled with the sweet smell of the freshly cut stalks lingering in the morning air. Soon anticipation for the nut harvest begins. Ranchers checking for readiness and watching the forecast warding off any possible rain, waiting for that perfect day to knock the nuts. They work endlessly preparing the hullers, shakers and sweepers.
Produce trucks are seen carrying a variety of loads; first the summer tomatoes, melons, corn, then the nuts to the hullers; finally the winter squash and pumpkins are on board for their journey to the markets, while golden pears and red pomegranate so dangle in the trees like Christmas ornaments.
And so it goes all season long; long into the lingering warm days and into the cooler nights, by moon light they harvest.
Even too, the animals are busy... the squirrels gathering what was been left behind of the nuts in the valley orchards and the acorns in the foothills. The first Canadian geese fly over head, right above our house they pass every year. In the morning I can hear them honking as they go by, sometimes they fly so low I can hear their wings flutter in unison, as a well orchestrated drill team, moving smoothly together without missing a beat.
Soon the season will turn, and the low hum of the harvesters and hullers
will become quiet, the fields barren, and the trees dormant. All that will remain is the memory of the warm summer days and thankfulness of yet another year's harvest.