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This weekend, Jen was in France visiting Sarah while I attended my 40th high school reunion. While we were gone, this bear brazenly sauntered across the back yard.

Tonight the Northern Lights were visible all around our house.

The dahlias are coming in fast and furious in the late-season race against first frost. Jen filled her trug with beautiful flowers to bring back to New York.

The barn swallows have returned south for the winter. This means that we can close the barn doors and keep out the ever increasing flock of pigeons who are laser focused on befouling the barn. They await the spring, when they can resume operations.

Summer may be ending, but the dahlias are plentiful.

A hummingbird in the secret garden wonders if the dahlias will ever bloom.

Of course they do bloom, but only at the end of the summer. We returned for Labor Day weekend from dropping off Sarah in France. We had fine weather here, with a briief visit from Jen’s parents. While we were gone, our dahlias flourished, our barn swallows departed, and our tomatoes proliferated.

And, apparently, we had a visit from a bear, who was filmed by our neighbor vicki Hohner.

Sarah rode both bicycle and horse this weekend.

Jen took a short break from jam-making to see what the birds were up to in Vlei Marsh.

The kitchen was abuzz for our weekend visitors, Julie, Stacey, and babysitter-for-life Lauren Ballback.

Between meals, Jen managed to put up quite a few jars of marmalade.

Stacey lent her customary good cheer.

Lauren stopped overnight on her drive from Virginia to Maine. While here, she and Sarah made approximately 30,000 calories worth of granola.

And, in a surprise, I found Lauren’s dog Hamilton trotting along behind me as I walked by the swamp. He stayed with me the rest of the walk.

On Sunday we had a “microburst” — a/k/a a personal tornado — which set down on our farm and laid waste to our population of elderly trees. Poor Jen was out picking berries at the time. The storm came very suddenly and was over in just a few minutes. We tried to return to New York but a large tree had fallen across Kerr Road. Fortunately, our neighbor Dmitry Alden arrived in his Mercedes G Wagon, equipped with a winch, and, wielding an enormous chain saw (not entirely without delicacy: he is a liver surgeon, after all), set us free. We got home around midnight.

The house itself did not entirely escape damage, but this was the worst of it. The power and phone lines were stripped from the house, cottage, and barn, and we lost two telephone poles.

For the second time, a tree limb crashed through the window of our car (the last time it was the front windshield).

Here, over by the cottage, is what formerly was a charming stand of maples. We regained electricity Thursday night, but we still have no phone or wifi in the house.

We have entered the shank of blackcap gathering season. Jen never leaves the house without a Ziplock bag, or possible two.