Summer always surprises me. By April, I’m tired of winter. Still, those first hot days leave me panicked. I’m not ready for things to thaw, for the mad dash of spring and then summer to begin. But we don’t get to choose when we are shaken out of hibernation.
This year was an especially rude awakening.
On April 13, when our team gathered to pick up trash on the roads by our farm, it was 90 degrees. We cooked ourselves on the asphalt, filling dozens of contractor bags with littered beer cans, fireball nips, and fast food bags. The next day, with the Housatonic Valley Association, and a dedicated group of volunteers, we planted willows and red osier dogwood around one of our farm ponds to stabilize the banks. It is the sort of work that should be done in the cool weather, with dormant trees and dormant mud, but again, it was hot, buds were already swelling.
Now, a few days later it is cold and gray outside, and I’m being warmed by a fire as I type, recovering from global weirding whiplash.
Our project is also entering a season of growth. The Town Planning Board ushered in spring by issuing approvals for us to move forward with our plans. This came after 6 years of intensive review by the board, and extraordinary ongoing support from neighbors and community members. It feels like the sudden end of a long winter for us. We now have permission to build cabins for guests to stay on the farm, spaces for learning, for sharing meals, fermenting food and drinks, fruiting mushrooms – for sharing life on the farm.
They say that “every day is Earth Day.” This is particularly apparent on a farm where, every day, our work and our sustenance is explicitly linked to the earth. That is why it is critical to make this into a place where people can immerse themselves, so we can be reminded of our interdependence. Even though overnight stays are still on the horizon, we hope you’ll join us for some of the many workshops and events we have planned for this year.
Thanks for all your support, and I hope we’ll see you on the farm.