I know I’ve missed a season – a whole wonderful summer. It’s been a busy one, so please forgive me. But I’m back! Fall is in full swing, and there’s a chill in the air here in Austin… at least until about 9am. Then it starts to heat up, and by 3pm, it feels like mid-July again. Long live the Indian summers of central Texas. I’m craving sweater weather.
Today, though, was gorgeous. A hot, blazing sun, but still beautiful – and warranted a trip to the Texas countryside: to Bastrop. Or rather, somewhere between Austin and Bastrop, along a windy, two-lane highway to Barton Hill Farm. This autumn haven featured all the classics: tractor rides, a corn maze, animal feeding and a pumpkin patch, all perched on a hillside overlooking the winding Colorado River. And, of course, food trucks. Nothing in the Austin area seems to happen without them. There was Mexican or BBQ. Neither felt like fall, but I opted for the chicken tacos (although was tempted by the peccadillo tacos – I’d never seen it on a menu before).
Our mouths burned from the spice of these “authentic” tacos for at least half an hour. But they were good, despite the swarm of bees buzzing around each plate. And the hairy spider that kept making appearances between the planks of our picnic table. Oh, country living.
The pumpkin patch was teeming with kids running around in search of the perfect orange sphere – we almost pretended we had some in tow. We did find our own perfect deep orange pumpkin, but couldn’t be bothered to carry it home. There were also some feisty piglets, stepping on top of each other to scrounge for every last bit of pig food people were feeding them from ice cream cones (cake, not sugar).
We took a quick gander through part of the corn labyrinth only to turn back around, as we hadn’t bothered to bring along the clues for escape. Then attempted a tractor ride, but the line stretched way past closing time. Mostly, we enjoyed the country air and fall-ness around us, even though the temperature said otherwise. The smell of the country followed us home, sticking to our skin in that fresh-dusty way. Fall, I’m ready for you.