Freighter View Farms

Fall at Freighter View Farms is a season that invites a deep breath, a slowing of pace, and a return to a gentler rhythm. As the garden transitions into its dormant state, there is a quiet beauty that emerges, one that rewards those who take the time to observe it closely. The hustle and intensity of the summer harvest has quieted, leaving behind a garden that is slowly exhaling, a gentle settling down into rest. The days grow shorter, but the shadows stretch longer, draping themselves languidly across the beds and fields, painting the landscape with a golden light that seems to linger as if savoring the last warmth of the year.

Walking through the garden paths, I feel the crunch of leaves beneath my boots, the sound echoing in the stillness of the cool morning air. The lettuce and radishes, those steadfast companions of the fall garden, still stand vibrant among the fading green, offering up their final gifts of the season. There is something deeply satisfying about harvesting radishes in November, a small triumph against the cold, a sign that the earth, though preparing to sleep, still has a little more to give. The garden is quieter now, its once-bustling rows transformed into a space of reflection and calm.

The beds that once overflowed with tomatoes and beans are now bare, but they hold a different kind of beauty. The soil rests beneath a layer of fallen leaves and mulch, slowly gathering the nutrients it will need for next year. The marigolds have withered, their bright heads now seed-filled capsules of potential, waiting for next spring. Each step I take is deliberate, slow, as if to match the unhurried pace of the world around me. There is no rush, only the subtle unfolding of nature’s cycle.

It’s not just the garden that has entered this reflective state. Walks along the beach, with Saginaw Bay stretching out toward the horizon, carry the same tranquil energy. There is something meditative about watching the freighters move steadily up the river channel, their engines humming softly, breaking the otherwise complete silence of these fall days. These freighters, powerful and purposeful, seem almost to match the measured, deliberate pace of the season. They steam past slowly, their silhouettes dark against the silvery bay, creating a beautiful contrast with the amber tones of the surrounding landscape.

The migrating birds add another layer to this season’s story. ducks, geese and other waterfowl dance on the water, their calls the only sound cutting through the crisp air. It’s moments like these, standing at Freighter View Farms and watching the migration that make me truly appreciate the importance of the bay as a sanctuary for life. The birds are here only briefly, but their presence is a reminder of the continuity and flow of seasons, of the natural cycles that keep us all moving forward. It’s easy to lose oneself in the sight of their elegant flight, the way they follow the currents with ease, and for a moment, I feel as though I am migrating too, carried by the rhythms of the season.

As I walk, I run my fingers over the branches of the shrubs, now bare, feeling the smooth wood beneath my fingertips, tracing the places where new buds will form in spring. The air smells of earth and decaying leaves, that unmistakable scent of a garden winding down. It is cool, invigorating, a reminder that winter is coming, but not yet here. The garden, in its restful state, feels alive in a different way, full of quiet potential, rather than the showy abundance of summer.

Freighter View Farms has always been a place that thrives on the seasonal dance, from the spring sowing to the fall harvest, but it’s in this season of rest that I find the most profound connection to the land. There is a joy in stepping back and letting nature take its course, in watching the garden transform into a place of reflection rather than production. The long shadows, the delicate frost forming on the grass in the mornings, the way the light filters through the last of the fall leaves, catching on the edges of bare branches—it’s all part of the beauty of this slower season.

So, if you have a garden or even if you just love the idea of one, I invite you to embrace this slower pace. Take a walk, listen to the birds, and let yourself be part of the natural rhythm. There is beauty in this season, in the quiet calm of a resting garden. There is joy in the slower days, in the subtle colors, in the simplicity of it all. Freighter View Farms may be quieting down, but there is still so much to see, to hear, to feel, and to be thankful for.