This time of year the farm is dark and dormant, like that of a new moon sky. During these winter months, all that is dark and seemingly void of life secretly carries the story of spring and another farm season. The new farm season, like a new moon, has its presence concealed by darkness. The brown limbs of the orchard trees, barren of leaves and verve, clutch rich life in their buds. Grab a handful of darkened rain-soaked earth, and find it alive with worms, microscopic life too, breaking down the season that was tilled-in, and small seeds that still call it night. These seeds hold all they need within themselves, stories of the past and future. They lie dormant, their knowledge an ancestral heirloom that echoes, “Wait for the warmth of a sun reaching higher in the sky, the spring-warmed soil around you, the enlivened drops of spring showers, before reaching with your roots and sprouting onto land.” With the days dominated by cold and dark, much of my working hours are now spent inside, where the fire keeps us warm and the kettle works overtime.
The months of winter offer up drastically different work from the hot … Read More