Spring is, after all, going out like a lamb

Recently we were asked “how far behind do you think you are this year?”-a harmless and appropriate inquiry considering this spring’s cold, inconsistent start.

We reacted reflexively with paranoid confusion- another symptom of how this ever-expanding project and lifestyle, in surprising and interesting ways, manifests. Immediately, with the assumption being that we are naively behind schedule, our anxieties ruminate-

“But seedlings are on schedule in the nursery, right?!…”

“We learned so much. We are far-better prepared. We have a well-functioning propagation house, efficient tools and systems, we are ready to go, right?!…”

“We don’t need to build gardens from scratch this year, we are maintaining, right?!…”

“We must inevitably be far, far ahead of where we were last season, right?!…”

We are, in fact, much better prepared this season physically, mentally/emotionally, and resourcefully. Last year’s expansion and corresponding growing season felt like a rite-of-passage or a “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere” category of challenge. We think we were probably about as ready as we could’ve been and were ultimately successful at producing a whole lot of food.

But the rookie fear and paranoia of “not knowing what we didn’t know” felt heavy, omnipresent, and exhausting- more of a load to bear than what accompanied all of the obvious bending, digging, and hauling involved in the human-scale agriculture to which we’ve committed ourselves. It wasn’t physical weight that was overwhelming, but rather fear of the unknown, a sense of impending doom, or self-doubt. By the end of our first season, there were sparks and there were embers, but we didn’t burn out.

By Thanksgiving Day 2021, after we’d completed a difficult inaugural season and delivered our final boxes, we had a chance to reevaluate. We found ourselves surprisingly whole- still in one piece, better for it, in fact. We think this was what gradual progress looked and felt like- like a marathon or a thru-hike, a long challenge, a test of perseverance assumed to be enjoyed at its successful conclusion. A step forward, two steps back, and finally a giant leap of an effort to make up for, and advance beyond, lost ground.

Conclusively, we feel evermore qualified and confident in our agrarian pursuits. But without the support of our CSA shareholders, none of this growth could have been an option.

But we are reminded that, whether the winds are at our back or we are running against them, separate and apart from our best efforts to be disciplined, organized, or proactive, we are unavoidably in collaboration with (and a product of) Mother Nature. The determining factor will not always be how well we are following a crop plan and schedule. Often, all that matters is how she has chosen to behave and this growing season, she felt trivial, chilly, justly apathetic, and she chose to wake up slow.

In the garden, her lack of urgency is most noticeable in rows of puny, wispy onion greens and baby-button potato sprouts. Within the garden’s surrounding wild woods, meadows, and pastures, we observe lethargic forage, canopies lazily-foliating, and belated blossoms. Because of this formal partnership with the elements, we’ve never been more aware of, or more attuned to, our natural surroundings and our place within them. It feels like a privilege, good and right, one for which we have our shareholders to acknowledge and thank.

Last spring, we had unseasonably beneficial weather, ideal for early cold season crops. As it is our sophomore (or maybe red-shirt freshman) season, we were able to easily work the ground and transplant seedlings on or ahead of schedule, anticipating even better results on account of our preparation and experience. Because of consistently cloudy skies and cool temperatures these crops did not take off as we’d hoped, but proceeded to simply stay alive. So it goes.

Despite these unavoidable irregularities and with some extra effort required to ensure an early harvest, we will nevertheless have our first seasonal produce boxes available Mid May as we’d hoped, loaded with salad greens, root vegetables, herbs, eggs and whatever else is mature and ready to be shared in the coming weeks:

Home Delivery Box 1:

Wednesday, May 18th ~NOON- 6pm

*Expect an email or text prior to delivery & leave a cooler at the delivery location if you’d like.

Farm Pick Up Box 1:

Sunday, May 22nd ~NOON- 5pm

*Send us a text or email pick up, when possible.

Spring is, after all, going out like a lamb. A hot, high sun and dry conditions give us the perfect opportunity to complete much of our summer garden next week. We will finish shaping beds, transplanting nightshades, and continuing to direct-seed summer crops like the three sisters: corn, beans, and squash. Melons, Pumpkins, and Cucumbers will find their birthplace with fresh compost and organic fertilizer- settled and watered-in with rich collected rainwater from our reservoir. We will continue successions of salad greens and root vegetables.

Until next week, thank you again for your involvement and support. Feel free to reach out with any questions, comments, or concerns. If there is a more ideal email address to link with our mailing list or if you’d like to add a family member, let us know. We are excited to have some face time with our shareholders in the coming weeks and look forward to feeding your families!

Erin & David Morckel

Previous
Previous

Wholesome whole foods

Next
Next

Small scale, Local produce