Autumn leaves are here to stay

I arrived at Towerwater in the dark on Friday, which is another sign that winter is approaching. I stepped out of the bakkie into a vibration of chirping crickets that threatened to overpower the night sounds of the balmy autumn evening.

As I stepped into the house, I could make out the dark cricket bodies on the floor in the street light coming in through the window. As I switched on the table lamp nearest the door, the warm electric light washed over all the dead crickets lying on the floor. There they were lying on their backs with their cricket legs in the air.

I have not worked out why they would like to come and die inside the house or why they die in this way and numbers. I will have to research the lifecycle of the cricket to get to the bottom of it. I decided to vacuum up the cricket corpses before I offloaded the bakkie. That would enable me to put down my bags and relax, with the cleaning of the cricket-masses behind me.

On Saturday morning I was greeted by a freshly mowed lawn scattered with oak leaves. A few guinea fowl feathers lay among the leaves. I was reminded that the guinea fowl too are going into autumn, losing their feathers like the vineyards and trees are losing their leaves.

Everything I sowed and planted had come up. The vegetable and herb garden was full of fresh and green new life while at the same time the rest of the garden was fading into autumn. That is Towerwater, in a constant balancing act of renewal and decay.

I am so proud of the garlic plants that are already big and strong planted from our own harvest of last year. At this rate I will not have to buy garlic for planting again. I am trying to get into a cycle of harvesting and planting my own seeds. This year I have harvested tomato seeds, beans, mealies and garlic and if the rest of the seeds perform like the garlic, I will be very happy.

A harvest of brinjals and pomegranates promised a Mediterranean feast somewhere between lime-washing and cleaning-up the bedroom.