I was going to write about the obesity epidemic, and the news reports that show it’s worsening across the nation, yet ... what on earth is there left to say about that? Plant a Victory Garden and eat fresh, organic whole food? Explore your walkshed every day? Enough. How many times can I beat that dead horse?

So, there I was once again, with a fistful of herbs, heading to a neighbor’s house when it hit me: Something to share. Surely it's one of the most important health benefits of keeping a garden.

Ever since I have had my garden, I have had something to share. I no longer show up empty handed. No one ever leaves my house without something, and I am never stuck needing to run to the store in rush hour rain when I want to thank someone who has done me a kindness, or want to give a little pick-me-up to someone in pain. I save jars to fill with flowers and herbs, and leave them on doorsteps like old-time milk deliveries.

The folks to whom I give these things appreciate them, but I know that I’m the one who really gets the gift.

Forget the diet benefits of gardening. There are health benefits – connections to other people – that should not be overlooked. When push comes to shove, isn’t this all we really want? A way to share?

 
The October beans and most of the Flagrano flageolets are in the freezer, but still my garden is full of beans. As I gather pale pods of black-and-white Yin Yangs, I am amazed at the generosity of the sturdy little plants. Certainly I expected a nice harvest when I planted them, but their giving nature takes me by surprise.

And it's not just the 'Yin-Yangs.' Looking around, I find a bounty of forgotten beans worth gathering: abandoned French Duet pole filet beans holding blue-black seeds, and a few Peking Black crowder peas that reseeded themselves in a back corner of the garden.  

Some of my finds seem too beautiful to eat, for example the nickel-size seeds hidden inside the long, leathery pods of Emperor scarlet runner beans. I toss them in the soup anyway. As they simmer in the company of summer's last tomatoes and peppers, their meatiness will make them seem like little steaks on a spoon.

The petite green limas are so precious that we eat them like garden caviar, slowly and in small amounts. They take forever to grow and are equally slow to shell, but there is no doubt that they are worth it. Besides, the bumblebees love them.

The biggest and best beans get set aside for replanting, but still it feels extravagant to be eating hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Satisfying, too, in a way that cannot be felt unless one grows the beans. You give them a home, bring them water when they need it, and step in when foxtail and crabgrass threaten to take over the planting.

It is a partnership in which you must keep up your end of the deal, and now you can claim your prize. As you run your hand through a bowl of drying beans, they might as well be gold coins. But what is the prize – the beans themselves, or the feeling of wealth that comes with having them? Either way, bean season is worth savoring.

To determine your optimum dates for sowing fall crops, add three weeks to the days to maturity ratings listed below or shown on your seed packs to compensate for days that are getting shorter. Then count back from your average first fall frost date to find the date you should sow each crop. (To find your average first fall frost date, search by state in the tables provided by the National Climatic Data Center.) Cool-season plants will continue to grow a little after nights turn chilly, but they will make most of their new growth early on, while the weather is still warm.

Many of the best crops of fall — including salad greens and various cabbage cousins — will refuse to germinate in soil warmer than 85 degrees, so the seeds are best started indoors (on a 90-degree day, surface soil temperatures may actually be 110 degrees or more). The procedure for growing seedlings is the same as in spring (see Seed Starting Basics), but care for transplanted seedlings requires some extra hardware. Insect pressure in late summer is severe, so use homemade or purchased lightweight row covers to exclude critters. (See The No-Spray Way to Protect Plants) It helps to shade each seedling with a light-colored flowerpot, pail or other cover for two to three days after transplanting. Protected from scorching sun, the seedlings can concentrate on growing reliable roots.

Cabbage and broccoli seedlings need to be planted at least eight weeks before the first fall frost, and as long as their roots are kept moist, they seem to benefit from a spell of hot weather as late summer days become shorter. When set out so late that they miss the last warm spells, cabbage cousins tend to stop growing too soon. Whether you’re working with seedlings you grew yourself or bought at a store, get them in the ground as soon as you can.