Beautiful Cranberries

I love cranberries. It is now their time.

The Other Autumnal Beauty: The Cranberry Harvest

Everybody yacks about the autumnal beauty of leaves in New England, where to go and when to see them best.

Well, most people do. One person of my acquaintance came from the American west. They were used to plains, rocky canyons, and mountains almost devoid of trees. That was the scenery for them, and they complained that in New England, they “couldn’t see the scenery because of all these trees in the way”. They did not elect to stay in New England.

And the leaves are quite beautiful, as we’ve previously noted on this Crummy Little Blog That Nobody Reads (CLBTNR). But there’s another sort of autumnal beauty, often overlooked, and rather specialized in nature: the cranberry harvest. The venerable Globe this week reminded us with a photo essay by John Tlumacki. ^[1]

These are just a few of his photos, by all means go to the source to see more. I love the bright red colors, the contrast with the still-green trees, the water, and… well, everything about this scene. If you’re there in person, the autumnal forest smells are pretty great, too.

What’s not depicted in the photos is the amount of physical labor this demands from the workers, standing in cold water. Have a moment of sympathy for them, and hope that your cranberry-buying funds go at least partly to the workers and not the combine and wholesalers between you & them!

Tart cranberry bread, cranberry terrine, cranberry fruit relish… It’s time.

The Weekend Conclusion

There are many measures of season.

We gauge autumn in particular by the changes in forest leaves, the drop in temperature and coming of frost, the elections (hey, if you’re a US voter, have you done that yet?!), the foods, and many things.

Here, for example, you see the Weekend Publishers parked on the enclosed back deck, hoping to murder some local fauna. They are anticipating Thanksgiving, and would like the turkeys to believe that the cats just want to confer, consult, and otherwise hob-knob with them about their holiday plans. The turkeys understand and appreciate the glass; the cats do not.

Another aspect of autumn is that the cats are much more interested in cuddling when the weather is cooler, and they can’t just park for the day on the enclosed back deck, menacing the local fauna with their supposed alpha predator status. Instead, they want to keep close and keep warm.

This morning, I got up momentarily for standard maintenance, intending to go back to bed for some more delicious morning sleep, one of the deep benefits of retirement. Alas, upon my return, I found these 2 hooligans had taken over the bed, sucking up all the remaining warmth for themselves. They were disinclined to make room for me.

This CLBTNR has in its motto, “Occasional tart thoughts…”, and we do really mean that. However, in a more literal sense, I now look forward to a autumn of much tart baking, and my very favorite very tart cranberry fruit terrine for a holiday table.

May we all look forward to a good autumn, and a good election. If you’re a US eligible voter, go get that taken care of, ok?

(Ceterum censeo, Trump incarceranda est!)

(Et ceterum censeo, index Epsteiniani divulganda est!)

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Notes & References

1: J Tlumacki, “It’s cranberry harvest time in Massachusetts”, Boston Globe, 2026-Oct-09.

NB: This is probably paywalled, but since we subscribe Chez Weekend, I didn’t notice. Notes on the usual archival sites apply. ↩