Every year I end up in the same place. Each autumn I struggle to respect my physical limits. It happens without fail: as winter approaches I find myself rushing, as if I’m sprinting toward a finish line. Perhaps I am.
Instead of honoring my body’s call for extra sleep, I’m up before my partner leaves for work. There are so many tasks demanding attention—small urgencies and long-term projects that push me out of bed. An early start feels like the only way to accomplish everything.
I should be resting in the afternoons—reading or napping—but instead I’m pulled into the kitchen. It’s not intentional; canning draws me in. Seeing jars lined up on the shelf gives a deep satisfaction that makes me lose track of time.
On cold, clear evenings I ought to be snug at home by the woodstove, working on rug hooking or reading. Instead I sit quietly on the chilled forest floor, waiting for a glimpse of a whitetail through my rifle scope.
Weekends should be for slowing down and enjoying friends’ company, yet I spend them butchering poultry, harvesting vegetables, canning, and planning what still needs to be done in the garden before the snow falls.
Will I ever learn? Or is this simply the reality of raising your own food?
Is this pre-winter flurry something my lifestyle naturally invites? Am I like a bear preparing for hibernation, instinctively stocking up while the harvest is available?
My partner and I talk about this each year: how can we make next year easier on ourselves? As we discuss changes, we keep working.
It seems we just can’t help it.
There are more than 30 laying hens’ worth of meat chilling in the freezer. Outside the cottage, a harvested deer hangs in the pines. Onions fill a pantry basket and potatoes rest in sacks on the floor. Canning shelves are slowly filling. Boxes of apples line the kitchen wall, pears soften on the dining room table, and green tomatoes ripen in the pantry, needing attention.
I know I shouldn’t push so hard, yet somehow it feels right. I can’t always explain it, and I don’t fully understand it, but now feels like the moment to hustle. Have you ever felt this way? I’m overwhelmed by the autumn season, and strangely, I also feel exactly where I should be.