Liberty Reservoir: Autumn

A gorgeous Sunday morning in October. Jane is busy preparing for her annual thesis committee meeting, so I take the car and return to my favorite woodland spot around these parts - a little point of forest jutting out into Liberty Lake near Reisterstown. As I enter the woods off the 795, the brilliant sunrise disappears behind a curl of morning fog. Down by the water's edge, mist is rising from the lake surface, and the fog casts a deep blue filter on everything in the distance. The leaves have begun to turn, the clusters of orange and yellow maple and birch dotting the shoreline in the distance. The water level in the reservoir is low after a long, hot summer here in Baltimore; I walk along the spongy ground where the lake has receded, and spend some amount of time sitting on a rocky outcrop that is usually underwater. I have now visited this particular spot of the woods in every season of the year, and it is certainly more beautiful than ever here and now, at the edge of autumn. In another month, the leaves across the water will turn brilliant red then brown, the trees will become barren, and eventually the lake will glaze over in a sheet of ice. The geese will soon arrive on their way south for the winter, having traveled from the distant reaches of Nova Scotia and Maine. Life continues on in Maryland. Wedding preparations are underway in California.

Out of the woods and on my way back home, I stop at the gravel outlook off of Deer Park Road, where Jane and I went stargazing two months ago, where we started our hike of the Soldier's Delight serpentine trail over two years ago. The sun is rising now, and the tendrils of fog are lifting off the prairieland. I take a photo of a lone tree in the barrens before returning to Baltimore.

Larriland Farm: Fall Harvest

A birthday treat for the two of us. I have a rare golden weekend (what most of the American workforce just calls "weekend")  away from the hospital, so after stopping by the library to exchange a few books, Jane and I drive 30 minutes west of the city to a farm in Howard County, listening to election-related podcasts along the way. At the Larriland Farm in Woodbine, the gravel-and-dirt parking lot is jam-packed, and the harvest season's festivities are underway. Toddlers dressed in Halloween costumes run this way and that, while their siblings pick beets and carve pumpkins and pose with the dirty-brown llama in the pen behind the barn. We stop in the converted barnhouse and gift shop, picking up gummy apple treats and homemade applesauce (for me), and a tall jar of barley honey and a honey dipper (for Jane, who makes tea after dinner most nights). After chowing down on several hot dogs, Jane and I drive the dirt path around the farm, past fields of spinach and turnips, and park beside the apple orchards where over a dozen varieties of apple are harvested here every fall. This week, the Ida Reds, sitting in their tall branches, are at the peak of ripeness - tart, firm-fleshed apples that lend themselves well to baking and stewing. I pick half a dozen and make baked buttered apples that night, digging out the cores and filling them with barley honey. Jane fills a bag with the ludicrously plump and sweet Mutsu variety - yellow-green apples originally grown in the wintry northlands of Japan. We treat ourselves to one of these before leaving the orchard, and are effusive in our praise for this lovely and commendable fruit.

Baltimore: Post-Call

Busy times here in Baltimore. In the daze after a long night caring for people in the hospital, I leave the apartment with Jane and walk down to the waterfront here in East Baltimore, between old brick townhouses, past the boats docked along the marina in Canton. Buying ice cream at Kilwin's in Fells Point, we sit and enjoy our cones by the water, gazing at the old smokestacks and shipyards across the harbor in Locust Point. A beautiful, early fall evening here in the city. As we walk back home, the horizon darkens in color,  and the sky assumes lovely shades of deep purple and blue. All around us, the electric streetlamps are flickering on.