Equinoctal frog sings mellow fruitfulness
Last Sunday evening the autumnal equinox arrived with equal hours of light and dark, reminding me of Ane Carla Rovetta’s hilarious rendition of the Native American story of the frog who brings night and day in equal measure to the world.
Easily on that, romantic Keats arises in my mind, refreshing as ever each fall: “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom friend of the maturing sun; conspiring with him how to load and bless / With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run / To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees / And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core.”
With fall hard upon us and a brisk shift in the air, we anticipate now the October event that heralds the season of celebration in Glen Ellen.
GE fair land of counterpane
Oct. 13, Sunday, is the day of our glorious and gallant Glen Ellen Village Fair. For more than a year, the lovely ladies of the Village Quilters have been meeting in Mary Ann Carr’s living space, flush on the banks of Sonoma Creek, stitching the squares that grace our 2013 quilt.
I recall it was almost two years ago that the word first went out that quilt squares were requested featuring this fair’s theme of “Food for Thought.” As the pieces of artful stitchery began arriving at Pam Wiley’s house, I went to look, asking for a consult on my own inchoate offering.
Many hands make work light
Pam laid out an array of beautiful needlework, squares done by talented artists, lovers of fabric and sewing. Before the pieces were stitched together, Pam took the lot out to Montana where she and Glen Ellen ex-pat Leslie Smith chose the various rows and columns, creating a blanket to be cherished by one happy winner. We don’t know for sure, but we are assuming that the Sweeties of these two quilting ladies enjoyed passing the time on the banks of a trout stream.
And so the quilt was created.
Each piece a work in itself
The top left corner of this year’s quilt features an intricate basket of fruit fashioned by Nancy Murray, our former fire chief’s helpmate. The basket she fashioned brims with the fruit of the season, much in the manner of poet Keats, fruit-filled with ripeness to the core. Next to Nancy’s square is one of the several contributed by Ma Carr (as we affectionately call her), a perfect hanging bunch of three ripe apples, red delicious I would guess, again the embodiment of Keats’ sentiments. Her square has a simple arching beauty that emphasizes the fruit.
Deb Pool’s wine-red beets occupy the next square. Their delicate roots permeating the soil while their fancy feathered leaves seek the sun. I love this square, just as I love beets. They are one of my Finnish childhood staples, boiled, grated and served with salmon. Oh dear, a nostalgic reverie of purple-red stained fingers and delicious meals, all brought to the surface by Deb’s square.
Margie Foster’s overflowing picnic basket with a bottle of Sonoma Valley red, a crusty loaf of French bread, corn, strawberry and eggs makes for an elegant picnic repast. All that’s just the top row.