The cool autumn air stirs the blood in the veins, if you ask me. It’s as though the great outdoors was a vacuum, sucking you outside and demanding that you stay there, vigilant to any greater beauty that might come along. It’s the ideal time to work in the garden. No black flies. No heat. No problems.

Yet, it’s a rather sad state of affairs in these parts, where no root crops were sown this year. What is autumn, I ask you, with no root vegetables to pull or dig? No potatoes. No carrots. No beets. And worst of all, no turnips. Oh, I know, some of you groan at the mere mention of the word. But those who adore fresh turnips are weeping for me, I just know it!

It is a crying shame, really. It is sad to walk into the garden, filled with that autumn urge to dig and glean, and to come up short for a lack of anything to unearth. Plucking tomatoes from the vine just doesn’t do it, you know. I want that voracious sensation that comes with digging the first potato and knowing others are hiding just beyond view. I want the satisfaction that comes with yanking a gorgeous, scarlet-colored carrot from the earth without harming the lush green foliage. I want the gratification that comes with piling beets high in the garden hod, and watching as water gushes from the hose, washing the last remnants of soil from the bulging burgundy beauties.

Most of all, I want turnips. I want them because I love everything about them. I love the dear seeds that blend into the soil and shoot forth lush, light-green leaves in cool weather. I love the secrets turnips hold as they grow. (One never knows exactly to what size the roots are swelling beneath the earth.) I love the fact that you can sow them on the Fourth of July and still harvest a very decent crop. I love that the swollen roots store for several months in the cellar or fridge. I love the sweet, pinkish-creamy orange flesh mashed with the perfect proportion of butter, salt and pepper.

Turnips are perfect, really. They are easy to grow – undemanding and highly rewarding. They may have their problems now and then. Like other members of the cabbage family, they occasionally suffer from leaf damage from slugs, flea beetles, cabbage aphids, thrips. Usually these pests aren’t potent enough to affect yield. Sometimes turnips contract fungal problems, but usually pest problems can be eradicated easily by eliminating affected plants.

“Wait until after the first frost has struck to pick your turnips,” a friend who holds a wealth of garden savvy always says. “They’re sweeter that way.” Another friend recommends hilling turnips with soil to protect the plants from frost. “Just pull the soil right up over the leaves,” she says. “Then you’ll have turnips to dig on Thanksgiving morning!”

Ah, the thought of it! If you have turnips in your garden, savor them for me, will you? Pull those stubborn roots from the earth with the utmost care. Brush the soil off with love. Cart the harvest to the kitchen with reverence. And then indulge in the tender roots with abandon and lots of butter!

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, 512 North Ridge Road, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.