Rejoice, for it is Ernting! Once it was harvest month, and we worked without looking up. Not so Ernting here! We name it Ernting only as a wisecrack! We harvest beauty only, with our eyes as reaper, knife and winepress. Once it was the month for woodcutting; now the fires die down and we cut flowers. There is work to be done, but stop in the morning and evening and admire your gardens, for Ernting gives glimpses of the Last Garden that is to come.

Ernting is still a harvest season: a harvest of souls.