The time has come. All winter long I wander around doing this and doing that almost aimlessly, but not quite. During the winter, our family tends to rest and recuperate from the previous farm season. (We even went to Disneyland for the first time in 23 years, which was not restful, but it was fun.) But I must be a farmer at heart, because it is this time every year that the winter fog becomes a little less dense and my senses awaken to spring. I think there is a little farmer in all of us during this time of year!
I get excited when I see grass growing. I don’t love to mow, but I love to notice the nuances in the shades of green or the thickness of the blades. I am also drawn to buds on the fruit trees. I notice the leaf buds and fruit buds, I pay attention to how much they are swelling and I wonder if a hard frost will set them back this year, again. I begin to think about the pollinators. Will it rain during the time the flowers are open, will the bees want to get out and work so there will be fruit in the fall?
I notice how much water the mud puddles are holding and how much they have dried or not dried out. I pay attention to the impression left by the tractor tires—how deep, how defined or not at all. I listen to the birds, the frogs, the coyotes—each species unique, but still calling this their home too. I also notice that the swans are still here, but I know that when they move on from this winter home, that it will be time to plant strawberries, peas and spinach.
Now I am looking for pockets of weather, openings in the curtain of heaven, to begin my annual dance with this farm. In many ways it has already begun because our farm is a living eco system with many types of crops growing. We have been pruning fruit trees and seeding greenhouses, we have been in the shop repairing and building equipment to help us this season, our seeds have been ordered, soil samples taken and fertilizer blends have been created to feed each of our crops.
So it is, as our daylight increases, so does our energy, focus and purpose. Our partnership continues with this patch of earth we call home, to grow fruits and vegetables that are so flavorfully packed with sunshine and nutrients that they will cause your taste buds and mine to dance—food that will feed your family and mine!
Always organic, always GMO-free.
Last year, we “top worked” some Comice pear trees in our orchard—36 to be precise. We saved 12 of these trees to pollinate the Buerre Bosc pears. I planted the orchard five years ago, but the Comice pears have not performed well and seemed unhappy in our microclimate. The Bosc pears, however, took to the microclimate like a duck takes to water. So this winter, I cut some scion wood from the Bosc pears and am going to “top work” the last 12 Comice pear trees. Last year, we grafted the Comice pears over to Conference pears and four Asian pear varieties. The picture in this article is Stephen cutting off the “nurse” limb we left to stabilize the tree from the aggressive pruning.
