The freezer is full and the garden is empty. Well, mostly empty except for carrots we plan to winter-over, a half-bed of potatoes and some broccoli and cabbage carcasses we left for the rabbits that have managed to break into the fortress.

Our produce fridge is full too. Can’t fit another cabbage in there, so I’ve got overflow produce — apples, peppers and cabbage — stored in drywall buckets in the woodshed and covered with plywood so the squirrels don’t sample our stash. The root cellar shelves are stacked to the brim with canned goods. We’ve got crates filled with squash, onions and garlic. So. Much. Food. So much good food. But it comes with a lot of work. Good work. Rewarding work.

The garden really produced for us this year and I am overwhelmed with gratefulness. We both put a lot of time and energy into growing food and we were rewarded for our efforts. It feels like the right place to invest our energy, especially in these times — hunkering down, digging in, putting in the work for ourselves and stocking up for the winter months.

As we clean up the garden and prep it for winter, I soak up as much sunshine and dirt as possible to get me through the coming dark days. The Boss has deployed “The Fleet” of cold frames over our spinach and lettuce beds.

Now it’s time to slow down, whatever that means. We’ll find other things to do with our time now that the garden is almost finished. The Boss still has plenty to do getting everything wrapped up for the winter months. Soon he’ll have more time to play guitar, and I’ll be perusing my cookbooks for new ways to use all our bounty . . . and if you’re lucky, we’ll have you over for dinner.

I’m looking forward to winter communion with friends and meals that feature food we grew and harvested ourselves. I’ll brag to anyone we host for a meal that, “This is all from our garden!” And I’ll be transported back to the sunshine and warmth and color of the summer days that produced all this goodness.

The pea frame in June, August, September and October.