Summer on the farm was everything we could have imagined. Warm but never hot (at least by our warm-climate experience), so green it hurts, planting and grilling and napping in the sun. We had an almost nonstop flow of visitors–some from nearby NYC, others from all over the world.

We filled our days with cooking, eating, working in the garden and our nights around the fire, devouring smores and whiskey and deep red wine.  We slept with the windows wide open, the changing sounds of the peepers in the pond marking the passage of time–from the gentle, youthful chirping at the start of summer, to the loud bellows of the mature grown bullfrogs at the end.  Summer doesn’t technically last very long way up here, but the long days and short nights meant we were physically relieved when the temperatures started to cool.

We weren’t sad to see Summer go (our excitement for fall was too great), but we can’t wait to see it next year, when we’ll attack a new set of challenges like a quadrupled garden, a horse barn, and so much more.