Gathering & Preserving: Autumn Lessons from Nature

The air is warm, still lingering in the 70s and even touching 80, but autumn has already arrived. I can feel it in the shift of the winds, the scattering of crimson maple leaves that now blanket parts of my garden, and the chorus of owls calling in the early morning. Nature is busy with its preparations—squirrels gathering acorns, birds shifting their flight paths, trees letting go of what no longer serves them. And here I am, right alongside them, preparing my own stores for the winter months ahead.

A colorful autumn harvest of broccoli, cauliflower, calendula, purple carrots, and bok choy resting on straw and maple leaves—capturing both the abundance of the season and the natural rhythms described in this blog.

This past week, my kitchen has been alive with abundance, chaos, and a whole lot of tomatoes. I was gifted three banana boxes full of them, plus a crate of eggplant, a bunch of peppers, and a big bag of pears. Add to that the cucumbers from my garden—which were complete overachievers this season—and you can imagine what my days have looked like. At one point, I had a batch of tomatoes and peppers roasting for sauce while another pot of sauce bubbled on the stovetop. The blender has barely had a break, working full-time to turn roasted vegetables into creamy sauces and ripe fruit into sweet purées.

Jennifer with a gifted (and hand-picked) abundance of tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, and pears—overflowing with seasonal generosity and gratitude. These harvests remind me not only of the gifts from local farms but also of the joy in receiving and preserving with gratitude, a practice that feels grounding and deeply connected to the cycles of nature.

Of course, I didn’t do this alone. My grandson was by my side, carefully slicing tomatoes for sauce and pears for cooking. There’s something deeply meaningful about having little hands in the kitchen, learning the rhythms of the season, and sharing in the joy of turning fresh food into nourishment for the months to come. These are the memories that stay with us—sticky counters, laughter in the air, and jars lining the shelves like jewels.

Jackson loves helping in the kitchen, especially with projects like making pear sauce. As we work, we talk about the food, its qualities, and the nutrients it provides. He asks thoughtful questions to understand the process better—and of course, he loves Mimi’s food from the garden and farm, always partial to the flavors of home.

I truly love canning, freezing, and dehydrating. For me, it’s more than a chore—it’s a meditation. A way of slowing down, honoring the food before me, and deepening my understanding of it through the Ayurvedic lens. It’s self-care in its truest form: nourishing myself and my family not just for today, but for the colder, quieter months that lie ahead.

Here’s a little glimpse of what’s been created so far:

• 18 quarts of tomato sauce, with another 10 quarts frozen

• 12 one-gallon bags of whole tomatoes for future sauces

• Dozens of jars of pickles and relish, thanks to those nine cucumber plants that just wouldn’t quit

• Dehydrated herbs: tulsi, lemon verbena, lavender, oregano, parsley, and more

• Sweet applesauce and sliced apples tucked into the freezer for crisp-making later in the season, now joined by my second big bag of apples after a weekend of apple picking with the littles and my daughter. From the peels and cores, I’ve also started a batch of ginger apple scrap vinegar—another way of turning seasonal abundance into nourishment and medicine.

• Pear sauce already made, with a big basket still waiting to be transformed into ginger pear jam

My granddaughter Madelyn, beaming with pride as she holds up her apple from our annual family picking day—a tradition my daughter and I have shared for over 10 years. These little moments of joy remind me that food is not only nourishment but memory-making, passed lovingly from one generation to the next.

One of my favorite ways to make tomato sauce is also the simplest: cut tomatoes, peppers, onions, and garlic into chunks, season with spices, and roast at 350°F for an hour. Then blend until smooth and creamy. No fuss, no constant stirring—just pure, comforting flavor.

And let’s not forget about the garden itself. As the maple trees shed their leaves, they create a natural mulch over my broccoli, cauliflower, and Brussels sprouts. Each morning I walk through, brushing leaves off their tender tops so the sun can still reach them. It’s become a quiet little ritual—my way of saying thank you to the garden for all it has given me.

One of my many broccoli plants—part of a late-season garden that also includes 12 cauliflower and 3 Brussels sprouts still to come. Their bounty promises even more preserving ahead, a reminder that the season of nourishment continues well into autumn.

When I open the freezer or look across the cupboard shelves, I feel excitement. Excitement for the soups, sauces, crisps, and teas that will nourish us this winter. Excitement for the abundance that not only feeds us physically but also fills me with gratitude. And as I set aside seeds from those overgrown cucumbers to plant next year, I’m reminded of the cycles that carry us forward, season after season.

One of my overgrown pickling cucumbers—allowed to mature fully for seed saving. I have around 20 this size, enough to last a lifetime or perhaps to share with others next season, carrying the abundance forward.

In Ayurveda, autumn is Vata season—governed by air and ether, full of movement, lightness, and change. It’s easy to feel ungrounded in this transition, but practices like cooking, preserving, and creating routines offer stability. Foods that are warm, moist, oily, and grounding—those with sweet, sour, and salty tastes—are especially balancing now. Long-cooked sauces, jams, and stews help counteract dryness and bring steadiness to the body and mind. Even something as simple as sipping a warm spiced tea or adding a spoonful of ghee to meals can be a daily medicine. Preserving food is, in many ways, a medicine: a way of anchoring myself in abundance and warmth while the winds of change blow outside.

Like the squirrels gathering acorns, I’m gathering jars, bags, and bundles of herbs. Like the trees, I’m letting go of one season while preparing for the next. And like the owls, I’m listening closely to the quiet wisdom of nature, reminding me that this, too, is part of living aligned.

✨ My invitation for you: Notice how nature is preparing for the season ahead. What small ways can you mirror that in your own life? Whether it’s tucking away food for winter, setting new rhythms in your daily routine, or simply pausing to walk among the falling leaves, these rituals root us in the beauty of the season.

If you’d like to explore these rhythms more deeply, I invite you to join me for my upcoming 4-week Rooted in Autumn Yoga Series, beginning October 29th. Together we’ll align with the cycles of the season through grounding practices, reflection, and community connection.

4-Week Rooted in Autumn Yoga series

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Registration is open for November 1st: I’ll also be offering Seasonal Wisdom: An Introduction to Ayurveda, from 10AM–1PM, which includes a light seasonal meal crafted with foods from the garden. It’s a beautiful way to begin exploring Ayurveda while tasting the abundance of the season. This workshop is not only about food—it’s about preparing ourselves with knowledge and practices to move through autumn and winter with balance, just as preserving food prepares us for nourishment in the colder months. Use coupon code INTROAYURVEDA2025 by October 12th to receive the early bird rate.

Seasonal Wisdom: An Intro to Ayurveda

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As I sit with jars cooling on the counter and freezers full of future meals, I’m reminded that this work is more than food—it’s a practice of trust, gratitude, and presence. Each season brings its own rhythm, and by leaning into these cycles, we find balance not only in our bodies but in our lives.

With gratitude and warmth,

Jennifer

A joyful family apple-picking day with my daughter and grandchildren. Just as food nourishes the body and mind, time spent with loved ones nourishes the heart and spirit.