fall

A Cider a Day

Crabapples

This time of year is busy: it’s apple season, and that means lots of picking, juicing, and fermenting apples.

Each fall, I’ve looked for and picked apples wherever I can find them. Family trees, random trees in the park, and this year, I met a neighbor who had a half dozen McIntosh trees. So we went one early Saturday morning and picked apples.

The McIntosh apples, a half bucket of sweet yellow apples from my father-in-law’s yard, and a collection of bright red crabapples from our own backyard helped create about eight gallons of unfiltered apple juice.

From there, I split up those eight gallons into a few batches of hard cider.

The bright red juice is from the crabapples, which helps create a cider with a kick – a little something extra. When you ferment all the sugar out of juice during cider making, you have to have a little personality, and the crabs – with their acid and bitter tannins – helped add complexity.

From here, I stick a bit of yeast into a fermenter, sit the juice in a dark, cool spot, and let is sit for a few months. In the juice, the yeast turn all the sugar into alcohol and carbon dioxide.

And I had a bit of juice left over to enjoy with the kids – some “family-friendly” sweet cider, like what you buy at the orchard.

I officially started making hard cider in the fall of 2019, but this really became my pandemic project. I practiced, made hard cider out of store-bought juice, added other fruits and flavors to it. Now, I have it down pretty pat, and have even started making mead (fermented honey) and cyser (fermented apple juice mixed with honey).

There are lots of guides out there on how to make cider, but my favorites come from the folks at City Steading Brews – here’s a good starter recipe. Just know you’ll have to invest in some equipment and supplies: fermenting jugs, funnels, sanitizer, yeast.

But the juice? That’s the fun part. You can do like I do: pick and juice your own, using a standard home juicer. Or you can pick up a simple gallon of cider from your local orchard (just make sure it has no preservatives in it – ascorbic acid is okay), bring it home, and have it start bubbling into hard cider in no time.

Much like photography, the process is just as fun as the final results – except with cider, you get to drink it.


Autumn Around the Neighborhood

Our new neighborhood is filled with trees – trees of all kinds. This fall, we’re watching them turn magical. Even the oaks, normally a drab brown, are a brilliant orange around here.

Luckily, we had a few nice days this week after a dreary, wet, chilly week last week. So I went exploring to see what I could see. 


Fall Things

This weekend we did fall things.

In October, it’s like this all over the midwest: pumpkins, apples, cider, and donuts. Some of our local cider mills are now so busy that we have to go looking for quieter, more intimate places. We found that at Red Egg Farm, just outside of Jackson. It had all the traditional autumn stuff we wanted – cider slushies, hay rides, petting zoo – without the busy crowd of some other places.

We also visited Adams Farm to pick up actual apples (for cider) and pumpkins (for carving) to bring home. 

We did fall things, because it’s that time of year. 


Wet October

We’ve had a very wet October.

So wet, in fact, that our street flooded on a rainy Friday evening. We got back from a family gathering and there was a city worker out in the street, knee-deep in water, clearing out the storm drain. 

“It’s like this all over town,” he told me.

When the leaves fall, they clog those drains, and with all the rain we’ve had, it was a recipe for a river.

After one rainstorm, everything was glistening and damp in the yard, so I headed outside with the trusty Nifty 50mm to grab a few photos. 


Autumn Textures

I’m tired. We’re all tired.

I’m searching for some serenity in all this chaos. Luckily, we have had a pleasant autumn so far, and we take evening walks to shake off the dread and anxiety.

Now daylight savings has changed the light, and we wake up in the sunshine. It’s good, and much-needed, because the sun won’t be around much from now until spring. I’m trying to capture it as much as possible before the darkness comes. 

School has shut down in-person learning until after Thanksgiving. COVID-19 is spreading as usual. The election is over and yet not over. 

So very tired. 


Autumn Out Back

My co-workers thought I was crazy.

“I’m heading to the woods,” I said after lunch. “If I’m not back in a while, it’s been nice working with you all.”

The woods, they asked? Why?

Because. It’s right out back. At work, our headquarters sits in the middle of a beautiful, hilly forest, with little ponds and lakes all around us. I’ve been dying to get into those woods and explore – dying to get out and shoot, period.

No, the weather wasn’t nice, and no, the light wasn’t perfect. But if felt good to get out and tromp through the fallen leaves on a cool autumn day.

Then my Canon battery died, so I had to rely on my iPhone. Not that that matters.

I made it back by lunch hour’s end, a little wet and a lot refreshed.


Textures of the Season

Out here, where the roads are named after the family farms, we slide into the quiet season.

It’s all warm colors here at Adams Farm: yellows and reds and oranges. A few greens, but mostly the rustic hue of autumn.

The textures are everywhere, from smooth pumpkins and apples to mottled squashes of every different shape and size.

We’re crazy about the foods of autumn. I could live on apples and squash, while the kids transform into sticky hornet magnets with cider and donuts. We wipe our hands of cinnamon and sugar, we feel for the rigid pumpkin stems, and we toss the bumpy buttercup from crate to wagon.

This is what we live for – the texture of the season.


Hobbit Place

This is usually our springtime ritual, heading to the Hobbit Place, grabbing flowers and thinking about landscape decorations.

For this year, we went full autumn: mums, pumpkins, decorative gourds – the whole thing. As a Tolkien fan, I love the greenhouse’s name. As a person who cares about their yard, I appreciate their selection.

Tick tock goes the beat of the year. On and on we slide into fall.