Cross your fingers, summer’s over.

That’s what I’m thinking this September morning when the thermometer read 63 as I drove our daughter to school, while John was refilling the chickens’ water containers and pouring organic grain into their feeders.

“This is the first summer I can say ‘I suffered’”, says my husband, the hardworking organic farmer. With record breaking average high temperatures, there were many days he wouldn’t work outdoors past 11 or noon. He tried to encourage his two helpers- John M and Debbie-to leave the farm early when the heat and humidity would wear out the most garden loving human. Some days, they did go home after lunch. Other days, they slogged through the afternoon, taking many water breaks under the shade of our open ended “Golden Pavilion,” where we set up the baskets of produce for CSA pickups on Wednesday, and where sit down chores, like cleaning garlic, can take the place of harvesting or weeding.

The okra went wild; the peppers delayed, but finally got the green light a few weeks ago. Now we are up to our chins in habaneras, jalapenos, cayennes, Koreans, bells and Anaheims. John is on the phone every day to local restaurants- we will never again cook, can, dry or freeze this many peppers.

Omnipotent Okra Plants!

Basil flourished through the heat; the tomatoes were not at their best- some exploded after a few good drenchings, while the ever fertile Sungolds made a rebound. The poor blueberries did not grant us even a month of delight, though an early crop of blackberries made their way into a couple jars of jam and a few desserts.

Now that fall is coming for a visit, the farm will not be a sterile landscape. There’s a cardinal rule, John says, of never having patches of bare soil on a farm. I mentioned that I heard the cardinals this morning, and John joked that they taught him that rule!

In some ways, though we never imagine it, fall and winter are secretly exploding with energy and life. The insects have last minute sexual encounters, hoping to create one more batch of babies in case it is a long season. John, Debbie and John M are planting hundreds of starts: broccoli and cauliflower, Brussel sprouts, black, green and red kale, lettuces, collards, onions, garlic and leeks- and most of these will produce well before winter sets his foot on the land.

“Fall is really my favorite time of year,” says John, and he‘s not talking about how excited he is about the football season starting.

“I have a small amount of reliably seasonal melancholy, which I actually enjoy. Maybe it’s connected with the end of the season, watching the leaves that I have befriended for a whole season as they begin to fall,” he reflects, taking a sip of coffee. Coffee breaks became a habit this summer: one in the morning, after breakfast and chores, and one late in the afternoon, to fuel a final push. John watered himself all day long- and after our fabulous water distiller gave out, we switched to a gallon pitcher and a Britta filter. We refill it several times a day.

Relief is the word that comes to mind now, says John. The air is full of oxygen now, with high pressure and low humidity; we actually breathe better, sleep better, and generally feel more alive.

Last week, with the approach of Hurricane Earl, John shaped about 26 beds, turning in the remainders of plants that finished producing, using an attachment on the tractor to form the raised, cocoa colored mounds where all the fall veggies will grow.

Today, Debbie showed up wearing a zippered hoodie over her layers of garden clothes. And I do believe Farmer John may go an entire day without sweating through several long sleeve t-shirts, which means I won’t have to see one dripping off the edge of a kitchen chair, being dried by a box fan in the dining area.

The chickens are happy too- they spend all day outdoors instead of hiding in the shade now!

Note, dear reader, that I did not detail my own farm labor this summer: I wasn’t out there much. I was in the house, writing our CSA newsletters every week (we’re in week 17 of 20) doing interviews and writing articles for Tidewater Women magazine. Daily, I tried to deal cheerfully with the plentiful vegetables John brought in to the kitchen every afternoon (Shall I freeze them, make a stew, add to pasta, slice them and put them on pizza?) We were humbled by humidity that seeped through the door cracks into our house and the “over it” lassitude that prolonged heat spells bring- even to the folks indoors. I did help John and Kira (our teenager) on Saturdays at the Red Mill Farm Market, bringing egg sandwiches, washing , drying, crating the eggs , packing the cooler, helping to set up, or take down our tent, but it was John lifting and loading and unloading the truck on the hottest of mornings and packing it all in on those days it reached the high nineties. I was there, in the Golden Pavilion, on Wednesday mornings greeting our CSA members. That was enough for this city girl who married a farmer in mid-life.

And now that the school year has begun, I am back teaching music to preschool children, in air conditioned comfort. My colleagues are asking “Did you have a good summer?” and I say, “Yes, some parts of it!” But I am so glad it’s nearly over.

This was a summer when many farmers, including John, thought about throwing in their sweat soaked T shirts, and asking “Why am I doing this?”

But they conclude: it’s a good thing to grow food; it’s a good thing to take care of the soil. It’s a good thing we have farmers, and farms and people willing to work on them so that many more people can enjoy healthy, nutritionally dense food. Yes, it is worth it.

Maybe, just maybe, after October, after the market is done and the CSA wraps up and my daughter gets married, maybe, my hardworking farmer and I can do what most people – including our CSA members, Facebook friends, and relatives-do every summer: take some kind of a vacation.

Kathleen’s husband John runs New Earth Farm. Click here for more information.