I woke up this morning to the sound of dishes clinking and clanking in the kitchen and the knowledge that my wife was still sleeping so it was my 4 yr old helping himself to… something. I went into the kitchen and found that he had an apple in one hand and a food chopper in the other, standing on his step ladder at the kitchen table over a bowl. I took a breath and calmly and curiously asked, “what are you making?” to which he clearly and seriously replied that he was making “Apple Cider Cherry Tomato Pie.” I suggested that instead of putting the entire apple into the chopper, he let me slice the apple up before we (I) chopped it. And then he wanted to add the juice of a clementine. So I peeled a clementine and he put all his strength and energy into squeezing the juice into his bowl of chopped up apples as I finished making my morning coffee.

As far as I know that bowl of chopped up apples sprinkled with clementine juice is still sitting on the counter and will not be turned into the imagined “Apple Cider Cherry Tomato Pie,” but it was burst of creative expression that brought me joy this morning. And it started a conversation with my son about making apple cider – and how much I love making apple cider and how eleven years ago his mother and I made a video of making apple cider when we first started becoming enthusiastic after moving to New Hampshire eleven years ago.

I like making apple cider for many reasons. I love to drink apple cider (I bought some fresh cider this past weekend that I’ve been enjoying at the end of the day this week). I also love the process of making cider on a crisp autumn day, gathering the apples from the trees into the bushel baskets, putting them into the hopper, and watching the reddish brown juice flow out as you turn the handle and lower the press on to the apples.

It anchors me in the land, in the season, in the abundance that is always around us this time of year. And this is one way that we can stay grounded in the midst of anxious and uncertain political and social times. Connect yourself to the life and goodness that resides in the trees and ground, in the cornucopian early fall harvest that reminds us that there’s always more than we could need, and that grace can rise up in gratitude in our hearts for our daily bread. Or… our daily apple cider cherry tomato pie, as it were.

And we can experience the wisdom of Brother David Steindl-Rast who wrote:

“The root of joy is gratefulness…It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.”

May you find ways to connect to the gifts of the land, the glorious colors and tastes of this season, in your own creative way this week.

– Rev. Joel Eaton