Finally, a cool, steady rain is falling and the mountains and hills are enveloped in gray mist. It has been a hot, dry summer in central Vermont and the earth, trees, and gardens are soaking up the welcome water. Earlier today, the fields across the road were mowed for their second hay cut. Our 20-month-old grandson, Jack, is so in love with tractors that this is a celebratory kind of day. Jack gets to walk out and around the enormous, parked John Deere machine, with wheels that are impossibly huge and a cab and steering wheel that are high off the ground. He is captivated by the steady throb of the tractor engine. He watches the back and forth path of both tractors as one pulls the mower, and the other, the tedder, fluffs up or wuffles the hay before bailing. Wuffle, a new word for all of us!

Jack moved up to Vermont from Brooklyn with his parents in mid-March to settle into the farmhouse where Jack’s great-grandmother and great-grandfather lived most of their lives, and a farmstead that has been in this family for 6 generations. Before March, Jack was very familiar with the squirrels and crows, oak trees, puddles and dog parks in the park across the street from his apartment. Jack had mostly encountered tractors and hay fields in books about farms.

To have Jack and his parents so nearby and to be a part of their “pod” is a great blessing for Ashley and me, as it is to spend at least one full day a week as Jack’s companions and care givers. This is one good example of what many are calling a silver lining of the pandemic. Thankfully, we can say that some silver linings have manifested, for at least some of us, during this strange, lonely, and challenging time.

Lately, when so much seems up in the air at least, and in turmoil at worst, I have been thinking about and focusing my attention on what hasn’t changed. One of the things that is constant and reassuring is the growing world of summer and another is the love and treasured presence of family and dear friends.

Ashley wrote about envisioning, designing, building, and planting a garden in our June blog post. That garden has produced such bounty…tomatoes, eggplant, kale, chard, beans, peas, lettuces of all sorts, and now patty pan squash and zucchini. Our son Chris, Jack’s dad, also has a prolific garden that he planted in the spring when he and his family found themselves in Vermont. Today, Ashley, Jack, and I went to Chris’s garden to pick our lunch, and eat some of it right there. Jack loves Sungold cherry tomatoes which he pulls off the vine himself and pops in his mouth. Ashley loves the Cherokee purple heirloom tomatoes which he picked, washed, and cut in slabs for a fat tomato sandwich between 2 slices of our sourdough bread. Jack also loves what he calls “chini” cooked just until soft with butter. A garden lunch, with grandparents and grandson, grown with summer sun and rain, and love and care.

My dear friend, Laura, and I have been walking socially distanced regularly since the pandemic started, at first in parkas, gloves, and hats, and then, gradually transitioning to shorts and T-shirts. Among other beautiful walks, we witnessed all the spring wildflowers, called ephemerals, emerging from the brown leaves of winter on the forest floor…spring beauty, trillium, Dutchman's breeches, hepatica, wild ginger. What a blessing that was. In July, we planned a day together for her birthday beginning with a picnic in her garden and concluding at the Von Trapp Greenhouse display garden overlooking the Green Mountains. I have rarely seen flowers so beautiful anywhere. The bounty and beauty of gardens this year seems a miracle and a balm. We are more aware than ever that we are privileged, most especially during quarantine times. For this, we are grateful beyond measure. For this, we seek to be of service in ways that we can, whenever we can.

Drying garlic at The Knoll, Middlebury College

What is known as The Knoll, Middlebury College’s organic garden, has stayed open this summer. That was not assured at the beginning of the pandemic. I encountered the director and lead educator there in early spring working the soil by herself, not knowing what would happen. Eventually, they were able to hire several Middlebury College food service workers who have been full time, and because of this, the garden is yielding an abundant harvest. Much of the produce has been donated to HOPE, a local food shelf in Addison County. Now, some will also go to dining service at Middlebury College. The summer gardeners have planted many flowers that are suited to drying and plan to hold virtual sessions on wreath making later in the fall. The garden will be open to student volunteers after they fulfill their in-room quarantine period. It will also serve as a refuge for them during their more than strange autumn on campus. The garden is closed to all but students now, so I won’t be able to visit it. I will continue to be grateful that it is there, blooming and bountiful, providing solace and peace for students.

As summer turns to fall, we wish all of you a bountiful harvest of beauty, love, and friendship. We hope that wherever you are, and that whatever these next months will bring for you, that you will find peace and renewal in the natural world and in the love of family and friends. This is what we all need if we are to take good care of each other and our world. Be well, be safe, and many blessings. Louise and Ashley