Fall is probably my favorite season of all. There is so much about it that I love. The sunny days seem sunnier because the air is so crisp. The colors seem brighter. I adore catching the smell of woodsmoke in the night air. The foods of autumn are hard to beat. They are what we call comfort foods; apple pies, breads and soups and stews that have simmered all day. But one of my very favorite of autumn's gifts is the cranberry harvest. I grew up around cranberry bogs. I learned to ice skate on them when they were frozen over. My parents put us up on the old double bladed skates when we were small or pulled us on a sled. We always thought the bog owners were big meanies when they sanded them. Obviously we didn't realize the sand was a necessary part of the growing process. I fell through the ice a few times, right into the watery ditch. Thank god the water's not deep and the bogs weren't all that far from home. While the winter time frolics on the ice are fun, there is nothing that compares to the harvest. I remember being on the school bus as it wound it's way round the towns collecting up the children and coming round a corner and having to catch my breath when we all of a sudden came upon a bog being harvested. The greens and golds of the trees, the blue blue of the water and the bright crimson red of the berries is breathtaking. Even as a child, I got that feeling of awe upon seeing it.
I still catch my breath when I see the cranberry harvest. I think I always will.