Celebrating First Fruits

New week. New month. New season, or at least the slight shifts that come at the cross-quarter. Ancient people recognized it. And celebrated it. First of February, May, August, last day of October. Slight changes in the light and in the air. We'll be noticing the days are beginning to diminish by now, and the morning air is cooler. Tree fruits and grains ripen and drop their bounty. Sunset it closer to 8 p.m. than to 8:30. And sunrise is just about at 6 a.m. rather than at 5:30.

My kitchen is filled with fruit. I've probably bought too much, but there's such a bounty. Peaches, figs, strawberries and blueberries. Cherries are still available in abundance. I'm waiting for local plums. Apples and pears will be here soon. This time of year is the original feast. 

Long before our calendar of celebrations was codified, people feasted when the fruit ripened. There, really, was no way to preserve all that goodness and our hunter-gatherer ancestors tended to follow where the food supply led. 

As I think about what their lives might have been like, I think about the joy that must have been theirs when coming across that first stand of shrubs with ripe blue berries, trees hanging heavy with pears or figs or apricots. How, over time, they learned that there was a long succession of ripening fruit before the time of winter scarcity set in. They may even have discovered fermentation while watching the fruit ripen, drop, and break down.

I think something ancient in us is plugged in to this rhythm.

In post-modern life we may not always notice the gifts of the earth, but I think we are happier when we do. There is something natural, built-in to us as part of the web of life, that connects us to the rhythms and gifts of the earth. There's also something sad about life today, as we sometimes don't take the full measure of the season we're in and then chase after illusory pieces of it later - like trying to find strawberries in January. The balance of this time of year is abundance. It feels counterintuitive to write that; perhaps it is paradox. For those who like symmetry, the opposing measure will come early in February when only the humble snowdrop seems to be able to break the hard freeze of the natural rhythm and points to what is to come. 

So I'll be feasting on fruit and adding it to my cooking - salads with berries and figs, prosciutto-wrapped peaches and chopped pistachios over a bed of arugula. Yesterday I made a tomato gallette. I'm likely to make one with peaches before the season is over. Tomato sandwiches. Avocado, corn, and tomato salad. All that fresh goodness . . . I smile just thinking about it.  

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life..