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Coming of FallSeptember 20, 2010 My tomatoes have me looking at the end of summer and coming of fall from a different angle. I don't especially like summer. Most years, including this one, it settles in like an occupying army and you just have to live with it till it goes away. I love fall. Fall slips in, darts away, plays catch-me-if-you-can. Night closes in slowly from both ends of the day, polishing the remaining daylight hours till they sparkle, and the leaves rarely stop rustling. This year, my tomato vines are still laden with green tomatoes, and I can't help noticing that they're ripening more slowly as direct sunlight decreases and the temperature slips downward. Yesterday morning, with a 7:15 boat to catch, I rose in the dark, at 5:45. When Trav and I headed out, about 6:20, the sky was getting lighter, but the sun wasn't up and the thermometer on Malvina's dashboard said 45 degrees. I had a long-sleeve shirt on and a sweatshirt over it, not to mention honest-to-cool-weather jeans. It was chilly, not cold, but once the temperature hits 45, freezing becomes thinkable. Come on, green tomatoes: Ripen, ripen, ripen! There's no time to waste! I picked 18 this morning, after not picking for several days. Six are green-tinged enough that I set them in a window to ripen another day or two. The inside staircase that goes down to my bathroom has two oblong windows. That's where I put them. The sill of the window beside the front door isn't high enough to be safe from the jaws of Travvy, who has a taste for tomatoes, as for so many other things.
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